Circular Immortality
by TheBiggestNoob
Summary: Celene is a bodysnatcher that has lived in secret her entire immortal life. As the League of Legends becomes the dominant political power in Valoran she finds a place where she can not only be herself but be accepted. But something stirs in the shadows at her discovery she as struggles with the morals of her very existence. This is a rewrite; See the A/N for details Art: Fishslayer
1. 1:1 A Temporary Respite

**A/N: Guess who. Alright before we get started this is a rewrite of my two largest projects Sparks and The Freljord Incident with the final installment following afterward. The parts I feel like I could have done better on I will be changing. Some chapters will be largely unchanged outside of some minor edits and structural smoothing. I expect more major edits later in both stories as things get more complex. My goal with this is two-fold. I want to bring more maturity to a pair of stories that are actually rather mature in their content anyways. I consider this a more final draft. Secondly I'd like more exposure so I can feel justified releasing a piece of writing that is taking place far within a developed head-canon; something tough to understand without first reading Sparks and the Freljord Incident.**

 **This is almost a shameless tribute. Sparks and to a lesser extent the Freljord Incident are the pieces of work that made me into a confident writer and forced me to improve. Celene has a character isn't really a character to me anymore she's almost a signature. She is amusingly and secretly present in all of my fiction regardless of universe, time, setting and so on. I'm even doing the writing for an indie game company with my friend; guess who the bad guy is? Yeah; get excited for that but it's currently in the beginning phases. This project serves a number of purposes.**

 **I'd like to revisit the less toxic parts of this community.**

 **I'd like to extend my reach to new readers that won't dig through years of work and find sparks. Sparks still get roughly 200 reads a day but I still want to do it justice with a full revision and rerelease combined with its sequel and third part I'm currently working on.**

 **I'd like to get in touch again with what makes Celene herself. Often time when writing an antagonist they end up being dehumanized. Celene's mixture of human and inhuman qualities is the core of her character and missing this would ruin her for me and everyone else.**

 **I want to make sure I'm in practice writing emotional work for my jump with her over into her own canon.**

 **The writing in Sparks is utterly garbage compared to how I write now, years later. I've known this for ages but going back and fixing it all was a tall task. You may not see much that's different in this chapter but stuff will change. I plan on reworking entire characters and plot arcs. Many characters will be streamlined and more true to the canon versions of themselves. some should be pretty simple fixes while other; like Vayne will require extensive restructuring, dialogue changes and so forth. Celene herself will see a huge amount of focusing adjustments, sometimes in Sparks And TFI she does and says things that make no sense given her age, experience, background and magical ability. The entire project is getting a more mature coat of paint and even though this chapter only contains a boatload of grammar, spelling and structure fixes it's largely the same.**

 **Please not that unlike when I first released Sparks I had the story finished before I began posting, While that is** _ **Technically**_ **still the cause It will be posted after finished revisions instead of waiting to complete the entire the story. This means gaps in posts may occur as my life, my engineering degree, my girlfriend and my family kick my ass and eat my time like expensive chocolates.**

 **If you're already a fan, I welcome you back. This time around I'm fixing everything about my work i didn't like or thought was stupid, out of character, shallow or just bad. The revision is a fair but more emotional.**

 **If you're a new reader I hope you enjoy my work. If you REALLY enjoy it you can ruin it for yourself by reading Sparks on my profile, and then miss all of the massive amounts of changes that will be implemented in its rewrite.**

 **Thank you.**

A Temporary Respite  
1:1

 _Because I could not stop for Death-_

 _He kindly stopped for me-_

 _The Carriage held but just Ourselves-_

 _And Immortality._

 _We slowly drove-He knew no haste_

 _And I had put away_

 _My labor and my leisure too,_

 _For His Civility-_

 _We passed the School, where Children strove_

 _At Recess-in the Ring-_

 _We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain-_

 _We passed the Setting Sun-_

 _Or rather-He passed us-_

 _The Dews drew quivering and chill-_

 _For only Gossamer, my Gown-_

 _My Tippet-only Tulle-_

 _We paused before a House that seemed_

 _A Swelling of the Ground-_

 _The Roof was scarcely visible-_

 _The Cornice-in the Ground-_

 _Since then-'tis Centuries-and yet_

 _Feels shorter than the Day_

 _I first surmised the Horses' Heads_

 _Were toward Eternity-_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

The heavy oak door gave a long groan of protest as it was pushed ajar. A petite figure stood against crowded shapes and sounds of the Institute of War. A massive pillar lined room stared down at her, chill air seeping out of the archway that stood at least three times her height. The slim figure stared coolly back at the pillared room for a moment. Whispers escaped from the crowd clad in rope as the new comer advanced on the room. The doors closed with another loud protesting groan, sealing the intrigue of the crowd out and the silence in. The figure continued its advance across the room its goal in sight. A large staircase stood defiantly at the other end of the hall, above it a smaller and older looking wooden door with a shining strip of gold at eye level. No natural light entered the room. Its windowless walls were lined with torches, a magical blue flame silently dancing atop each one. The figure paused, reaching the top of the staircase. The golden plaque sat on the door a few inches above the figure's eyes, the words brightly shown in the flickering firelight.

"The Truest Enemy Lies Within" was neatly engraved on it. A pair of sky-blue eyes under short, ragged raven hair flicked along the engraved silver letters. A smile split her thin lips, and the figure returned the smile. Her hand came up, covering the engraved plaque as she pushed the door open. The door did not protest, swinging open and striking the wall with a thunk.

She stared through the doorway, her thin form immovable. The darkness glared back, a soft breeze shifting her worn brown traveling cloak as the thick air made a mad dash for the doorway and freedom. She stepped forward and the door swung shut behind her and the breeze was still. There was a pause; no sound but the intruder's heartbeat. Footsteps could be heard, echoing softly on the wall of the chamber.

"Why do you wish to join the League of Legends?" A woman's voice, soft but demanding, echoed through the black chamber.

There was a pause. The intruder stood silent, examining the question in the dark.

"A friend of mine is here." The intruder replied, her voice noticeably higher in pitch then her questioner. There was another pause. The Intruder felt the ground under her feet vanish, her weight suddenly supported by her waist and chest. Light flooded her eyes, she closed them to stem its flow. The sounds of a crowd, yelling in anger and despair could be heard. She opened one eye. She was in a valley, tall jagged mountains on either side of her covered in a blanket of lush green. The sun stared angrily at her from the end of the valley, casting long shadows across the earth. She turned her gaze down and buildings appeared. A small river flanking her left crossed by a wooden arc pitched. The bridge was new looking, painted white as the snow like the buildings to its right, made of stone with wooden roofs. A sharp pain snapped her back to attention, her eyes tracking a fist-sized rock clattering down the pile of wood she was atop. She remembered this, her eyes snapped to the people that surrounded her. Ionians- some sobbing, some frightened, most screaming and waving their fists in anger. She shifted her head away as another rock struck her cheek. She felt a crack, an iron taste flooding her mouth as pain shot through her jaw. She tried to move but couldn't, her arms tied at the wrists behind her back. A thick wooden beam pressed against her spine.

Her heart began to quicken as the realization of what was about to happen to her sunk in, her attention snapping back to the crowd as another rock struck her right breast. She recoiled, her binds keeping her still as pain shot up her front. She bit the inside of her lip, refusing to show any weakness as she glared at the person who had thrown the rock. She was a woman, about twenty with long black hair and a petite form, her face twisted in rage as she scooped up another rock and hurled it.

"Monster!" She shouted in Ionian, the rock meeting its mark yet again as the skin split on the bound woman's thigh.

"You took him away from me! He fought your black magic and you took him from me!" The Ionian girl advanced a step, her fingers curled, ready to claw anything in her way. The woman on the pole sighed loudly, looking at her feet. She felt horrible.

The crowd began to split. Her eyes followed the split and her gaze fell on an old man, wearing a white robe with long sleeves. He took slow, careful steps leaning on a thick wooden staff painted white, its top bent into a long elegant hook shape with a golden ring hanging from its curved tip. A box-like lantern hung from the ring, silver and shining in the evening sun like a beacon. He raised the staff weakly, planting the end stiffly in the soft foot-beaten dirt, releasing a small shock wave of dust before he took each step. Heads turned as he approached, the crowd parting to allow him to the head. He halted with a slight sway. His staff seemed to be all that was holding him upright. The angry yelling seemed to float away down the river, and there was silence for a moment.

The man's lip quivered. "What is your name, Demon," he spoke slowly, his voice strained and asthmatic, but soft as though speaking indoors.

She opened her mouth to speak, hacking out a few coughs. Her jaw didn't seem to want to move but she forced it.

"Fait-" she began.

"No!" The man shouted, his voice limping out like his walk.

"I asked for YOUR name, Demon." His lip quivered as he finished, more of his weight shifting forward onto his staff. Through the blood and the pain she felt a smile cross her lips.

"Celene," she half choked out. The man's expression didn't change, his old brown eyes looking into her pained blue ones.

His lower lip quivered and he spoke again, the tiredness in his voice audible. "Demon, do you name yourself, or was this name given to you by those cursed that bore you?" Her expression shifted slightly towards curious, her eyes shifting to the Ionian girl just a few feet from the man. She was glaring, as if trying to set the logs ablaze with her gaze. Celene scanned the crowd, their expressions were mirrored. A small sigh rose in her throat but she smothered it, her eyes settling on the village elder once again.

"It is a name I chose for myself." She paused, pushing the pain in her jaw into the abyss of her mind. "I was not born," she finished, feeling tired. The mortal body was at its limits. Pain, adrenaline and the feeling of death were taking its toll on her. Her whole body was throbbing. The blood on her skin no longer warm to the touch, the wind taking the heat away and replacing it with an almost soothing chill. The elder remained still, his face impassive. He shifted his weight back onto his feet, standing as straight as his back would allow. The action seems to pain him as his wrinkled lips pulled back in, revealing a few missing teeth. He held the staff out in front of him, towards the pyre. He looked back up at her, a hint of disgust leaking into his tired face.

He spoke. "You murdered the defender of our village. You are a monster that destroys and steals. You are past redemption. Welcome the fire, it will end your misery." The venom in his tone cutting the air like a knife, he stared at her for a moment, then lowered the staff. The lantern hit the logs with a metallic clunk, before tipping sideways, oil spilling out onto the wood and raging to life. The fire started to crackle and climb the pile of wood. There was a cheer as the elder turned his back to her and began to hobble away through the crowd. She let the sigh she had imprisoned in her throat free, not looking forward to the pain she know was coming. Not letting the panic take hold, she knew she would live. But she needed to figure out what to do. She scanned the crowd. After a moment her sky-blue eyes fell on the Ionian closest to the bridge, the girl who had thrown the rocks. Celene frowned. She was going to hurt her and there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted her to move but knew she wouldn't listen.

Her stomach turned over. The ground seemed to fall away from her. The pain was gone, and so was the heat; the taste of blood and smell of smoke. It was cold and silent as the night. Her stomach turning again, she looked down and saw nothing but black.

* * *

The first thing Celene heard were voices, soft but rising in volume and number. As the ground pressed itself against her feet a crowded market street melted into view. She was walking as swiftly as the crowd of people would allow. She strained her neck to see over the shoulder of a broad man who was inspecting some fish at a stand. Celene saw nothing but the maze of crowded streets working its way down towards the outer walls of the city. The city was circular and built around a large stone spire. Roads climbed their way up and around the spire, like vines climbing a tree trunk. At the top stood the wealthiest houses and government establishments, most of which proudly flew the Noxian flag. The rich or lucky had houses tucked into streets of the city below the great spire and naturally contributed to the Noxian rich market district in which Celene was now drowning. The poor, unlucky or weak all lived below ground in large slums. These slums has its own markets, schools, districts and as the spire is atop a cliff overlooking the open ocean open up to the sea, have their own ports. Because of its social structure and value of strength above all else, Noxus was often derogatorily called the two-faced city-state by its enemies.

Celene pulled the hood of her cloak up and stepped into the crowd. She was a nearly a head shorter then everyone around her but marched, uphill –cobbles under foot becoming less and less as she went higher and higher. The spire shaped upper city roads were steep but she hurried, today was a very important day for someone. A day Celene wanted very badly to ruin for her own gain –after all, it was the morally right thing to do. She told herself that over and over as she climbed, a shove her way here; a racial slur there. At one point the small Ionian was confronted by a large noble man. Thick jawed and strong with dirty brown hair as was common of Noxians.

"Don't you know we're at war? You rice picking piece of rat shit." He blocked her way. The Small Ionian woman groaned.

"Listen, I don't want trouble and I'm in a hurry." She said loudly, eyeing him past her hood. He stood two heads taller with shoulders twice the wide of hers.

He snorted and shoved her. Given the incline, the difference in stature and her flat footing she toppled backwards. Her arms slapped the ground, not allowing herself to hit her head as the cloak splayed around her and the man paused.

"I… I'm sorry, Miss. I didn't know you were in the employ of the general" He pounded his fist against his chest and hurriedly bowed as Celene got to her feet. Anger pulsed in her chest, mixing with the anxiety of possibly missing her deadline. She flicked her cloak back into place, covering the blade with this house seal on the scabbard that adorned her petite hip.

"Yes I am you halfwit, I don't have time for your presumptive, racist shit. You're lucky I need to be somewhere or id feed you your own cock." She spat, adding for flavor a bit of a lie "I defected to this nation because it was the strongest. I urge you to get the fuck out of my way." She paused, "Sir," added with no lack of spit. The man bowed again.

"Thank you. M'lady fo-"

"Fucking go!" She barked, the situation had garnered a fair bit of attention, guards, nobles, workers and the like were all watching intently. Her hand sat on the blade to force the point. He turned to his right and marched into the nearest shop. As the ring of the bell signaled his entry to the shop keep –whom was watching through the window Celene sighed, resting her arms at her sides and allowing the cloak to envelop her like before. A pair of sideways glances indicated everyone turned to go about their business, not to attract the wrath of the false noble.

She shifted the blade on her belt so it showed better and began walking. It was stolen of course, only adding to the limited window this once in a lifetime opportunity had. If it was reported missing to soon everything would be ruined. Her pace was quickening as the street began to level and she approached the line of mansions at the spires top. A gate stood in her way. A pair of guards with very expensive looking equipment eyed the racial oddity as she approached.

The moment one began to move Celene flicked her cloak so he could see the scabbard.

"Milady" he said somewhat confused but he began to open the gate regardless.

This happened twice more, once for the military district and again at her destination the mansion of General Du Couteau and his two daughters. Eleven year old Cassiopeia and nine year old Katarina. Celene bowed, as did the guard and butler.

"I'm Commander Kalmori of the Eastern Ionian front. I'm here to prepare the Prisoner under General Du Couteau." Celene introduced herself

The guard raised an eyebrow. "He didn't tell us Kalmori was an Ionian defect."

Celene thought for a second on how to respond. She decided the most Noxian course of action she could think of. Her hand shoot from her cloak and slapped sharply him across the cheek. "I don't Imagine the General tells is maids much about the war." She said.

The guard rubbed his cheek, making a note of the authority figures short temper. "The prisoner is was just escorted upstairs to Miss Katarina's bedchamber, Commander."

Celene froze.

 _FUCK_.

"The General never told his maids you were coming." added politely.

* * *

The young redhead blinked at herself in the mirror. Katarina's room was much unlike her older sisters. In loo of books, makeups and perfumes Katarina had wooden swords, long and short. Her dresser was dented from her practicing swings against it when father wasn't around and when she couldn't go after the servant gutter boy her father liked. She scowled at the thought of him. She was upper class, educated and strong. He was weak, scooped up by father.

There was a knock at her door.

"Who is it?" she said. it was her ninth birthday and her voice had yet to take on the family depth she would have later. She sounded shrill -she was excited after all.

"Kat, It's You're father." the Booming voice made her smile. He was never home -always off in some far off land; conquering, building and fighting. Katarina smiled. She wanted to be like her father. She wanted to travel the world and conquer like him and when he came and asked what she wanted for her ninth birthday, that is what she told him.

The door knob turned and he entered but not alone. Next to him was a man, small from starvation; bound and gagged to the point of immobility but not blindfolded. Katarina noted the soft tint of his skin and slant to his eyes -scared, pleading eyes. "You said you wanted to be a warrior Katarina." Rather then kneel to eye level to her like he normally did he stood over her. She nodded.

"Show me the salute i taught you." he ordered. Katarina smiled, he was treating her like a soldier. She saluted, having practiced it in the mirror to perfection. He saluted back, to her delight. It was then that he knelt to eye level. His big hand landing on her shoulder. his other reached for his belt. her green eyes lit up.

The metallic pop of a dagger escaping a scabbard, her fathers dagger; the one had carried on him as long as she could remember flipped in his hand as he pinched the blade and held it out to her.

"What does it mean to be a Noxian?" he asked her.

"To be stronger then the rest." Katarina answered instantly.

"Good, textbook answer. Now here's something tougher. What does it mean to be Strong?" he asked more slowly. the dagger was held out to her, but she didnt reach for the hilt yet.

"To win?" she replied, unsure and feeling a little insecure. the muffled man in the background wriggling was making it hard to think.

"Everyone has their own answer to that question and that question defines all Noxians." he said pushing the dagger into her hand. "For me, being strong meanings doing things that you find hard." he released the blade and stood up. it was far to big for her. "Tomorrow you're going to begin training Katarina. But you need to show me you're ready." he said turning his back and making for the door. "Everything is hard the first time you do it."

The door closed, from the center of the room in her pretty white dress Katarina heard the lock click, leaving her alone with the bound man.

slowly she walked up to him, her hands shaking and reached for the gag, with a quick motion of the knife it fell from his mouth and he gasped.

he began to ramble, plead, swear as Katarina stood in place, slowly processing. Thinking about what her father said and why. she was really hearing him as she slowly adjusted her grip on the knife and began to advance.

* * *

From upstairs Celene head a man shriek in pain. She jumped slightly at the sound inside her cloak. She Swore out loud, earning odd looks from the guard and butler.

"Milady?" one of them asked. Celene wasn't listening.

As she opened the door to leave the ground fell away. She was floating in black. Silent, weightless black.

Her feet slammed into the grass bed of the deep woods. She was running. Her chest hot from butchering half of the Demacian encampment behind her. They would get in the way of what she was trying to do. She couldn't have them interfere; or see what was to happen. She'd failed the first time due to being just minutes to late. This time would be different.

Celene ran. Her chest burning, it was black as the void and any magic use to early would give her away and ruin everything -beyond what she had done at the camp behind her of course. Katarina was under the impression her mission to assassinate a low ranking officer came from higher command -this was a falsity. Celene had carefully intercepted and changed letters -moving the pieces into place. The Demacian General arriving to investigate the miscommunication was a bit of a stroke of luck, as it prompted the assassin to return and gave Celene the chance she needed. With half the camp dead by Celene's hand as they ran to assist the other half engaging the assassin; Celene was in the clear. But she could see the torches of the Noxian task-force coming to assist Katarina and had to reach her before they did. But the Noxian, now seventeen was fast.

Katarina grinned. Blood streaming down her face. She had killed her target, completed her original mission and redeemed her mistake -but she was wounded, fatigued from the fight and had all but her fathers dagger left and someone was chasing her. Her training had taught her better then to engage ill-equipped. Perhaps her pursuer was a Demacian warrior, likely at full strength -without her equipment and in the dark trying to fight with help so close was just foolish. But whoever he was he was hot on her tail. She could see the touches of her troops, help was coming. She just had to run, but she was tired.

A sound. Like the whipping of taught steel cable. Katarina's left foot was snagged and ripped from the ground. Her back smashed into the grassy earth as she was not knocked down but lifted and pulled backward with amazing force. The through the darkness and blood in her eyes she could just make out a figure.

Eyes glowing a faint blue under its hood, a cord; like a whip extending from its left hand shimmering azure. It orbited her once before throwing her backward, away from her troops and safety.

Katarina landed on her back, converted the force into a reverse roll and plant her feet in stance; ready for a the fight she didn't want. past her bloodstained eyes and the darkness all she could make out was the faint trail of light from the figures eyes, the cord was gone. her attacked watched her for a brief moment, still -then moved.

The young assassin had never seen something move so fast. it was some forty feet away and within a split second within striking distance with a blue flash. She ducked a blow aimed at her head, she couldn't see where from. A second hit her, but lightly; as if her attacker was not attempting to kill her. Katarina shouted at the top of her lungs and swing at the faint glowing eyes with her dagger; all she could see. The figure leaned backward, at least Katarina thought so. the figures arm came up, pinning her dagger wielding aim off to the side and and locking her elbow. Katarina inhaled, using the last of her stamina she could muster for a shunpo -something her father had taught her, the only magic she knew. A simple short range displacement spell for getting out of locks and evading targets.

with a puff of smoke she was behind her attacker, her arm free. with no light to go on she reversed her grip on the dagger and swung blindly downward at where she guessed the neck would be. A cord of blue light erupted from some limb she couldn't make out and to Katarina's amazement not only met the dagger but in a shower of sparks split the blade from the guard.

The blade less weapon struck her attacker. Katarina's arm was grabbed and twisted as her attacker flipped her over their shoulder onto her back.

From her back Katarina managed a solid, steel boot kick to the attackers midsection and scrambled to her feet.

"Did you see that!?" she heard a shout.

"Ya!, sparks! This way HYA!" the whinny of a horse.

Her attacker swore loudly in Ionian.

Katarina turned on her heel and ran towards the sound as fast as she could.

She could hear foot steps behind her. Katarina had to admit she was afraid as she ran for her life.

After some seconds of sprinting an exhausted, wounded and unarmed Katarina reached the torchlight brought by the galloping house-mounted Noxian.

"whoaa" the mounted man shouted, sword in one hand, torch in the other. Katarina nearly ran into the animal as it dug its hooves into the earth and slide to a halt.

"Milady!" he shouted. "What happe-"

Katarina grabbed at his leg and hauled herself onto the horse.

The man had paused, not in surprise. he could see something. At the edge of the torchlight, barely viable was the faint pair of glowing eyes.

Celene stared at Katarina, livid, frustrated. This was the second time she'd gotten away from her. She couldn't do what was needed with so many witnesses. The torchlight barely touched her, she could see both the Assassin and the rider squinting to make her out. Celene felt her eye twitch and pointed at Katarina. she then spin on her heel. They wouldn't find her. She strained her ears for speech as she speed walked into the forest.

"I think it was an Ionian assassin." she thought she heard Katarina say; huffing for breath.

Celene was no assassin but Katarina thinking such; and later reporting it just complicated things. The Ionian woman bite her lip angrily. She back tracked, rubbing the explosive heat in her chest. She had been so close...

 _Maybe a trinket will help, a_ _memento._

she thought as she spotted the severed blade of Katarina's dagger. Kneeling down to pick it up she could see torches following her, slowly, searching. her blue eyes reflected in the expensive steel in her hand and she decided now was a good time to disappear.

All at once, the world seemed to fall away, she felt her weight rest on her feet. The thickness in the air returned as the heat in her chest drifted away. She was standing alone, in a stone chamber, too dark to see more than a few feet. Celene curled and uncurled her fingers, testing for another illusion. There was none, she was in control. There was a pause, only silence and dust in the air.

A woman's voice from the darkness echoed on the walls. "Why do you wish to join the League of Legends?" Celene paused, turning the question over in her mind again.

"To break the cycle. To have a temporary respite from _my_ normality, to feel different than I normally feel," Celene said, the smile creeping back onto her lips. Her eyes fixed on the source of the voice she couldn't see in the dark.

"How does it feel having your mind exposed?"

Celene didn't even have to think about that question, the answer presented itself on her lips.

"I was there for all of what you showed me." Celene retorted. "I don't care to have strangers digging through my mind, it's dangerous in there."

"Welcome to the League of Legends, Celene." The voice responded stoically. A light appeared in front of her, a door had opened. Beyond it, she made out a hall with robed figures walking about. Some of the figures stopped and stared at her through the doors. Most of the faces were young, in their late teens or early twenties. The smile on her lips turned to a grin as she stepped through the door into the hall.

* * *

The crowd of summoners was growing slowly, whispering amongst themselves. Men, women, and even a yordle or two, from every city-state. They parted, as a man a head taller than them and two taller than her made his way to the front. The man was old, in his seventies at least, with a wispy white beard, and liver-spotted pale skin, his robes a soft gray as opposed to the purple and blue of the others. He stopped in front of Celene, looking down at her with a ponderous look across his face.

"Champion Celene, I am Elder Summoner Marten." He paused, drawing a breath. "I have been tasked with familiarizing you with our institute as well as the rules of conduct you must follow as part of the League of Legends." The crowd was shrinking, a few mutterings of her name could be heard on the still air. Marten's stoic face cracked and split into a wide, friendly smile, he knelt down so he was eye level with Celene. She felt a pang of annoyance as his eyes leveled with hers, making her feel like a child. She glanced at him sideways in irritation.

"Well, now that the formalities are out of the way," he beamed, putting her at ease. "Follow me, if you would, and please ask any questions you may have." She suppressed a small laugh, something about cheerful old men. He straightened up and turned, shooing away the remaining crowd with a few sweeps of his hand. He took a step- his walk was surprisingly fast for his age. She had to work beyond her comfortable pace to match him. Marten took notice and slowed his steps. She thought, examining the hall as they strode down it; the hall was large, with arches on the ceiling similar to those she had seen in some churches, supported by thick stone pillars and draped with flags. The walls were lined with wooden doors, some larger than others and more magical touches, filling the hall with a soft blue light. At the end was another large staircase. A row of tall double doors lined the top of the stairs. On all but one hung the flag of a city-state. Demacia's door lay in the middle. Her eyebrows climbed slightly higher on her head, pondering the politics that resulted from its placement. Celene looked up at the summoner next to her, but his hood made seeing his face impossible.

"Where exactly are we going?" The question seemed to ring in the hall as they reached the foot of the steps. Marten halted.

"Exactly..." He smiled, examining her again. "Well, first we are going to the dining hall, I'm hungry, and you need to see it anyway." He drew a breath. She felt her eyebrow raise very slightly.

"Then I will show you to your room, you are not aligned with a political power, yes?" Well, that explains what the flag hanging doors are for. She thought as she opened her mouth to answer.

"No, I am not."

He nodded slowly as he placed his foot on the first stair and began to carry himself up. She found herself slowing down for him now, his face stiffened.

"Well, after that, tomorrow you will be summoned for a test match, so we can make any accommodations you may need, then again for a practice match after that. The practice match is to teach you how a match on the Field of Justice works," he finished as they reached the top of the stairs. He pointed to an ajar door at least twice her height and wide enough for a small phalanx of soldiers to march through. From the doorway floated the smell of cooking meat and bread, as well as a plethora of spices. Celene felt her stomach growl and briefly considered punching herself in the gut to silence it. Marten hurried through the door, Celene in tow.

Celene's jaw nearly dropped as she scanned the room. It was large enough to fit hundreds of people. The far wall was lined with vendors giving out food from all around Runeterra, but it wasn't the scale that surprised her it was the room's contents. On the far right sat a large Minotaur, towering over the table in front of him, on which roughly forty pounds of food sat on platters. To the bull's right sat a woman, clad in a purple dress that reached the middle of her thighs and a tall purple hat. The two conversed, the bull gesturing with his hands as he spoke animatedly.

She panned her head around the room a second time, examining everything. To her right between her and the bull sat two men and a woman, all in Demacian battle armor. The largest man was facing her, eyeing her and the elder summoner suspiciously. He had short dirty-blond hair, thick straight eyebrows, and a square jaw. The other man had long hair in a ponytail and his shoulder pads were straight and rigid instead of the rounded ones that adorned his partner. The woman had her back to Celene. She was much more lightly armored and with shoulder-length yellow hair. She seemed to shine unnaturally in the torchlight. Probably a mage, Celene thought, continuing her scan of the hall. In the center of the hall was a large crystal sphere that hung from the ceiling, about nine feet across, giving off a dull magical glow. Underneath it sat a young woman in a seafoam dress with long flowing hair split into two ponytails that fell across her shoulders into shades of yellow. Celene recognized the woman as Sona, a talented musician she had seen in a theater a few years ago. A yell carried itself across the hall, causing a pause in the chatter.

"Hey, newbie!" The yell came from a shirtless man clad only in boots, greaves, a single shoulder pad, and a silver crown. To his left was a white-haired woman with her face buried in a book. Celene felt a pang of annoyance as the attention of the entire hall shifted to her and the elder summoner.

"I'll see you on the fields tomorrow, newbie, then you can see a real warrior." his words slurred slightly. _He's likely drunk_ , she thought, as he sat laughing at his own joke. Her eyes ventured away from him to a white-haired woman sitting alone in the far right corner. She was dressed very similar to Celene. Aside from the few pieces of Noxian battle armor on her person, there was what resembled a large sword on the table in front of her next to her food, ragged at the end as if broken. The two women meet eyes. Celene noted the woman's eyes were a vivid amber, her face was ponderous as she turned back to her food. Celene's eyes followed the woman's gaze to her food, a prick of surprise as she realized the food she was eating was an Ionian dessert.

"Well, shall we?" Marten asked. He didn't wait for her to answer, hurrying off towards the vendor with the meat. Celene sighed and followed. Her course took her under the large sphere and past a table of ninjas, all of which eyed her curiously. Ignoring them, she gathered a plate of beef and some nuts. Moving to the next vendor, she stared at the sweets and gave in to her sweet tooth.

"This hall is surprisingly empty," she said, setting her plate down next to Marten, who was wolfing down his food already. He paused to swallow.

"It was built with expansion in mind. Only stable champions and experienced summoners may eat here, but it's still mostly empty." He speared a green bean with his fork.

"Stable champions?" she questioned, pausing and raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, some of our champions are imprisoned here because they're a danger to the villages and city-states of Runeterra."

"And you use them in your matches, just like those that come in and volunteer. Very utilitarian of you summoners," she almost teased, the tone geared at getting a reaction. Marten glanced at her and smiled.

"Might as well," he smirked, shoving the impaled bean into his mouth. The two ate in silence. Celene was content to watch the other champions come and go. Some, like the bull, returned to the vendors numerous times. Others like the amber-eyed woman left after their first plate. This woman intrigued Celene. She had a very intense gaze, but seemed to be extremely shy. The two traits didn't fit. _What was the reason for this,_ Celene wondered. She watched her as she lifted her broken sword and left. The sword looked extremely heavy, but the woman carried it with ease. She seemed to lack a sheath for the odd weapon, understandably so, as she simply held it as she left the hall.

"Who is she?" Celene asked, her eyes turning to Marten.

"Who?"

"The champion that just left, the woman with the white hair and amber eyes." Celene turned her eyes back to the door, having cleaned her plate.

"Oh, that's Riven, the Exile. She's been here a while. Very complicated woman. She stood in the middle of the Noxian chemical attacks against Ionia. Probably the reason for her white hair at such a young age. Well, from her reflection afterwards, she was appalled at the bloodshed so she broke her sword and defected from Noxus," he finished. Celene nodded in comprehension. A smile spouted on her lips as she looked towards the door the exile had left from.

"A Noxian soldier with a heart. I'm guessing she's attempting prove something. Someone with her past probably wouldn't want to fight," Celene said, getting to feet, seeing Marten finish the last of his food.

"She doesn't want to, she's trying to reform the Noxian ideal," he said, getting to his feet. Celene raised an eyebrow.

"How, exactly?" They moved towards the exit.

"Ugh, my old mind hinders me, I don't fully remember. You could always ask her." Marten said. Celene nodded, happy with his answer.

 _I've been here an hour or so, and already so many interesting people._ The thought put a smile on her face. This was exciting, and this wasn't the best part yet. She sped up her pace, Marten was beginning to outrun her. Celene passed the Demacian mage as she returned to her table. The mage was young, probably not out of her teens. She had brilliant blue eyes, unnaturally brilliant, likely linked to her magical field in some way. She wore a wide smile. The two exchanged looks. The mage opened her mouth to speak, revealing brilliant white teeth.

"Luxanna, we're leaving, we need to prepare for tomorrow," came a deep, overly noble voice from her table. The mage's smile faded slightly, her eyes flicking to the table, then back to Celene. The mage gave a tiny hurried bow, turned and half ran back to her table.

 _Ohhhh,_ Celene thought, her smile broadening as she turned over the event in her head.

 _Soooo many interesting people._ She turned. Marten was waiting for her to catch up by the door. She didn't bother speeding her pace, as she would reach him before either of them fell over dead. Besides, he seemed excited to be showing her around anyway. Perhaps the Elder was procrastinating. As she reached him, Marten gave her a smile and turned to leave, signaling her to follow.

"Marten, is anything important happening tomorrow, besides my matches?" she asked. She was snooping, she knew, but snooping wasn't something that she was forbidden from doing morally. Marten gave a small chuckle.

"Probably not anything related to you," he said, teasing her, not giving her the information he knew she wanted. He sighed, his tone turning slightly more serious.

"Well, tomorrow, some of the Crownguard family are coming. They say it's to see how the League of Legends is representing Demacia." Celene cocked an eyebrow.

"But, the League of Legends is neutral, from what I've read about it. It doesn't represent Demacia," Celene pointed out, confused. Marten glanced at her, pushing the door to neutral champion living quarters open. He paused it, half open.

"We don't, but the Demacian champions do. The Crownguards' visit is likely to see how their kin have been performing. The reason could be worry disguised as business. They will likely want to see them perform when they arrive, which is a logistical nightmare for me." Marten groaned out of half dread.

"Heh," Celene said, putting two and two together. "I guess I know who my opponent is tomorrow," she stated, shifting her eyes to the pair of Demacian champions leaving the hall.

"Opponent?" Marten said, smiling. "I never said anything about an opponent."

"True, but you did say the league needed to gauge my abilities. How is that going to happen without someone to pit my abilities against?" Celene pointed out, watching the Demacian mage tail behind the soldier. Both noticed her eyes on them. The soldier straightened up, his eyes turning forward into a solid stare. The mage "Luxanna" put an even wider smile on. The two examined each other as she passed. Marten's voice tore Celene from the mage and back to the progressing verbal duel.

"You're a smart girl. I saw your reflection. When was the last time someone told you that you're smart?" He was smiling widely at her. Celene felt a pang of annoyance at the compliment, the seeming congratulations at the duel's victory seemed condescending. Despite her aggressive mood swings Celene was rather competent in her own personal skills and was exasperated the old man had misread her as an insecure child. She ignored it, as the man clearly meant no harm.

"You know Marten, I'm a lot older than you. Don't you think it's unfair to treat me like a child?" She jabbed at him jokingly. He laughed, gripping his stomach.

"I don't know about that, _young_ lady, I'm pretty damn old," he jabbed back, stepping through the door. The hall behind was lined with doors, each with a plaque of silver. She glanced at the first to her right- "Jax, The Grandmaster at Arms".

"It doesn't matter which room you pick, so I would pick the closest one to the rest of the League you can." Marten stated.

"So, like that one?" Celene pointed to a door with a blank plaque.

"That's not the closest." Marten raised an eyebrow, pointing to the door next to Jax's room. Celene twisted the knob on the door she had pointed at, defiantly giving Marten a smirk as it opened.

"Whatever," he said, returning the smirk. "I need to take the plaque though, to get your name and title etched onto it."

"What's my title?" Celene asked, noting he had not said a single word about it, but all the champions seemed to have one.

"I haven't decided that yet," he said, his smirk now larger than Celene's.

 _Fuck,_ she thought. _Maybe I should have let him win._ She groaned in defeat as Marten removed the plaque from the door and tucked it under his arm. He began to leave.

"You can manage without me, the keys are on the table. Don't get lost looking around," he said with his back to her, waving with his free hand. She turned to the door next to hers. The plaque was blank. She panned her head to her other neighbor. Blank as well. She took a closer look. Thin scratches horizontally lined the plaque. Celene scanned the hallway. It was devoid of life. She reached up to the plaque and slid it out of place. It caught on the grain of the wood behind it. She wiggled it free and flipped it, examining the back. "Riven the Exile." She whistled a single note softly to herself. Intrigued, she decided to test Riven, flipping the plaque upside down then replacing it backwards on the door, the name once again hidden.

Celene pushed her own door open again, entering her new home. She pushed the door shut with her foot and scanned her space. It was large enough to comfortably house a few people. It was bare aside from a bed, a bookshelf which was empty, and an armoire. The room was lit by a small hextech orb hanging from the ceiling rather than the blue magical torches she had seen before. The room sported a small kitchen, and after some inspection, she found the sink had running water. Something only royalty had access to. There was a small bathroom again with running water and a closet. It was an interesting combination of royal treatment and compact.

"It's like a one room castle. " Celene muttered to herself with a small grin.

Celene decided the bed was worth trying out. The traveling to the institute had made her very tired. Maybe a nap, she thought, beginning to undo the buckles on her worn traveling outfit. Come to think of it, this was the only clothing she actually owned. The League provided champions with an allowance, however, so if she felt the need for more clothing, she could buy it.

The League's presence had caused a small town to spring up around it to support its trade and such. It started of just selling to the champions of the League and offering transportation. Over the nearly three years the League of Legends had been around, since its formation, the city had grown in size. It was still without a name, simply being referred to as the "Institute of War" in conversation.

The last of her clothing was shed and once on the bed she was asleep within moments.

* * *

The next day was one of chores. Celene found herself patrolling the shops below the institute in search of anything she thought she'd need. Everything was exceptionally expensive but that was hardly surprising. When she saw her allowance her jaw had dropped. The city-state tithes had built an economy around the Institute with goods of higher quality then many of the states themselves; though at triple the price. Truth be-told Celene wasn't all that attached to possessions. after some hours of exploring she'd settled on a bit of leather armor, nothing in any way obstructive, more of a corset and some feminine yet steel toed lace up boots that reached nearly to her knees.

A quick jog and she was already used to them. Deciding she wanted a drink she ducked into a fancy looking pub. "The Champions" it was called. an explosion of noise hit her the moment she walked through the door. there was cheering, booing -standard for a bar fight. The inn-keep; a large bearded man seemed completely apathetic however. Celene felt her attention snag. her short height made assessing the situation amid the swirling mass of drunkards impossible. she scowled in annoying and started to shove her way to the front.

in the process she was elbowed in the cheek but reaching the front of the ring she was greeted not with an all out brawl but a raised sparing stage. nets lined the sides to prevent injury and presumably interference. But that wasn't what had her attention. On one side of the ring was the drunken shirtless man that had yelled at her when she was walking with Marten. he was swearing drunkenly, posturing and swaggering around his half of the ten meter circle.

On the other half was the white haired woman with amber eyes, though they were shut tightly. Her face in a scowl as if suppressing rage at the mans words. Celene wasn't really listening, as he drunkenly rambled about Noxian genocide of the northerners. She knew what was happening.

It was at that moment the innkeeper piped up, his booming voice silencing the crowd and fighter. "Alrighty ladies and gents, the bets are tallied up, you know the rules. First knocked cold or out of the circle is the loser and so is everyone who wagered on them! Are you ready!?"

the jeers erupted again.

"Good, Fighters. 3, 2, 1!" the shirt man drunkenly charged, shoulder first and meet a prompt right handed hay-maker to the face. He landed on his back in the center of the ring with a cheer from the crowd. Celene grinned as Riven shook loose the hand she'd thrown the punch with. She had to try this -Knowing she was going to be tested later that day thanks to Marten a warm up may prove useful. The man staggered to his feet as Celene pushed back into the crowd toward the Innkeeper.

"What can i get you little lady, i haven't seen ya' roun' 'ear before." he greeted.

"I just joined the league yesterday. and if you have water id like that." She responded.

He gave a single laugh and batted his hand. "BAA YOU!? a Champion? Me' bar stoles are taller. ye' must be a mage." he grinned.

"We'll you'll find out later today I'm told. My Name is Celene." she took the glass of water he slide her across the counter.

"Aye, Celene. I'm Gragas, i run this here establishment and a number of other all over, i enjoy a stiff drink and enjoy a jolly brawl."

Celene was halfway through her water by the time he finished. "How does a bar stole like myself partake in one such jolly brawl, like over there?" She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb, time near perfect with the drunken man again being knocked to the ground again.

"That, young-lady is an arse' kickin'. Riven doesn' lose to drunkards often, champion or no."

"Im no drunkard, im a bar stole." Celene retorted back, finishing her water. Gragas grinned.

"You want a go at 'er do ye' lass? Riven doesn' like Ionians much. And we dont allow magic or weapons, only fists." he smacked his fists together.

A huge cheer erupted as the man was knocked out of the ring, into the net below. Riven stood over him, panting but looking very satisfied with silencing his tirade of racial slurs and family insults. She popped her knuckles and sat on one of the two stoles in the ring. there was a brief flurry in the crowd as gold was exchanged, guards pushing around to correct any foulness among the patrons.

"I'll give it a shot. You wanna bet on me?" Celene said. Gragas laughed loudly.

"Nay, not today lass." he handed her a sheet and pen. "Sign ye' name and pay the five copper fee, tis' for the health potions issued given to both parties after."

Celene took the pen and signed, her scrawl like that of an old woman, practiced and fine. handing the sheet to Gragas she good to her feet and exhaled. She was excited, and a bit nervous.

"Oi' Riven, you got anotha'." Gragas called as Celene marched up to the ring. She was handed a step ladder by a guard, climbed over the netting and into the circle. Riven remained seated. She looked as if Tryndamare had failed to hit her even one time. Her powerful eyes fixated on her less then five foot opponent.

"Hello" Celene said politely. Riven didn't say anything, simply staring as if trying to light Celene on fire with her glare. Celene popped her neck back and forth then went on. "I'm new to the League."

"Alright everyone, place ye' bets. Riven, the Exile versus Celene, The Bar Stole!" There was an explosion of laughter, Celene herself grinned. Riven's white eyebrow raised.

"The bar stole?" she said. her voice had an odd twinge to it, strong but soft spoken.

"I'm short as a bar stole." Celene replied.

Riven smirked "-Dumb as one too for coming up here." Riven gestured at her calmly with her hand.

"ohh." Celene playfully winced."I like the confidence."

"Alright ladies!" Get off ye' pretty asses and beat the shit outa eachotha'!" Gragas shouted. Riven got to her feet and kicked the small stole out of the ring. She assumed a stance. Celene remained flat-footed, her small hands raising to the small gold piece of jewelry that pinned her cloak. The Exile marched up to her, stopping within striking distance. Celene smiled up at her, unclasping the brooch and putting her left thumb under it.

"Alright! 3, 2", Riven's fists clenched, Celene felt herself flooded with a wave of adrenaline. She loved the sensation, her eyes dilating, feet parting into stance, hidden by her cloak.

"1!"

Riven's right hand swing upward towards Celene's face. the golden brooch popped out of place as Celene flicked it into Riven's face. Flinched flinched before she could complete the swing and stumbled backward, unsure what it was Celene did. There was a mix of jeers and boos. Celene resumed her soft stance as Riven regained her baring, the Ionians small hands wrapped around the normally pinned corners of her cloak. Riven growled in annoyance and lunged at her. Celene ducked the first swing, Riven followed right a left jab which Celene avoided by leaning her head backward. A stomach punch followed, Celene curled and that missed as well. Riven returned with a right handed elbow which Celene ducked, followed back a left handed upper cut -which brushed the side of the Ionians face as she moved backward. Riven paused for a split second before beginning a second combination, sizing her Ionian combatant up with another flurry. This time mostly jabs. Celene raised her forearms and elbows to meet each. Even with a favorable connection of the blow on her hand the strikes hurt -a show of just how hard Riven _would_ be hitting her if she was. after a second Riven opened up with a missed right crossed. Celene rolled around it, her booted heel striking Riven on the back of the head in a reverse round house and knocking her to the floor.

There was a cheer. Riven shook her head and got to her feet. Celene assumed the same half stance as before, holding the corners of her cloak.

"You're pretty good," Riven complimented. "Very slippery."

"I'm told it's a bad trait for a seat to have." Riven smiled at her. This fight as different. Riven could see Celene was testing herself. Celene guessed Riven was doing the same. Not a fight to silence racism or injustice, just to see who was better.

This time Riven walked up to her more cautiously and started to throw a right hook, she faint and jabbed with her left striking Celene square in the face. Riven's right hand followed up but Celene whipped the cloak over her shoulder with her right hand and swiped it in a pass over the hooked punch and Riven's vision. slowing her around for Celene to lock her elbow around the right hook and pin Riven's elbow against her chest. Before Riven regained control Celene's right foot snapped up and struck her in the face. Celene let go of Riven's arm while she stumbled and stepped to the side, planting a side kick in her short ribs that knocked Riven to the ground a second time.

Riven snarled and pushed herself quickly back to her feet. this time keeping her distance for a moment. "That's a Noxian technique." she pointed out.

"I forgot which styles are from where, they mix together." Celene replied. "We still goin'?" the Ionian asked.

Riven smiled at her. "Of course."

"Alrighty" Celene strolled up to the Exile, holding her cloak.

Riven swung wide, fainting but her real left swing was met with a backwards step and the cloak swirling into her face. Riven reversed and Celene reversed as well. on the third pass Riven connected with Celene's fore arm and the Ionian slipped inside her guard. Riven would have none of that and headbutted her on the nose followed by and upper cut to the small womans chin. Celene barely recovered in time, to duck the following hay maker and knee Riven in the stomach. the Ionian hopped a pace backward and aimed to knock Riven over with a side kick -which Riven caught in her left hand. Celene was shocked as Riven with one hand; her off hand no less -pulled her by her foot and threw her as if she was a shock-put. Celene converted the momentum into a half cartwheel and tossed her cloak over Riven's face as the Exile charged after her, intent on pushing her off the stage. Riven ripped the cloak off her face just a second to soon for Celene's plan to work. the Ionian had got a running start into a flying kick, Riven leaned back and as Celene's midsection passed her Riven's elbow came crashing down on Celene's short ribs. before Celene could figure out what happened Riven's knee landed in the small of her back and she crashed to floor. Riven took a step forward and kicked her like a football in the stomach, sending her flying the remaining four feet over the side of the stage. She overshot the net and landed on table before rolling off the other side onto the floor. There was a Cheer.

Riven sighed, and hopped down after her. the guards were already next to the woman, force-feeding her a health potion. Riven stepped around the table and tossed Celene's cloak onto her lap. there was a pause. The Riven managed a small smile and extended a hand.

"You're tougher then you look."

"You're as tough as you look" Celene replied, allowing Riven to haul her onto her feet. "hey, lets get something to eat." The Ionian suggested after a pause. Riven looked at her stoically and decided to give the social encounter a try.

Riven looked at her feet, almost shyly. "Sure."

Celene smiled at her. She snapped her fingers then held her palm flat. A split second later the golden brooch fell into her palm from thin air. Riven blinked at her as Celene swirled the cloak over her shoulders and pinned it. "Wanna eat here or at the institute?"

"The institute is free." Riven replied, her mind pondering if Celene had actually fought entirely fair; perhaps some magic was at play she was unaware of.

"Alright, lets go eat." Celene said brightly.

 **A/N: Please be sure to Pm me with any questions. The current publication of Sparks exists now as a placeholder for the convenience of any readers that want to skip ahead and read whats written but un revised. It will be taken down after it's revision and upload is completed.**

See you next uploads.


	2. 1:2 Old Friends

Old Friends.

1:2

 _A few grains of dust more or less_

 _On ancient shoulders_

 _Locks of weakness on weary foreheads_

 _This theatre of honey and faded roses_

 _Where incalculable flies_

 _Reply to the black signs that misery makes to them_

 _Despairing girders of a bridge_

 _Thrown across space_

 _Thrown across every street and every house_

 _Heavy wandering madnesses_

 _That we shall end by knowing by heart_

 _Mechanical appetites and uncontrolled dances_

 _That lead to the regret of hatred_

 _Nostalgia of justice_

~ Paul Elumard

* * *

Celene was halfway through her second plate of food when a heavy slam bounced her plate. Looking up she spied Riven seating herself across from her. The table shaker in question was in face a stone sword. Celene recognized it as a distinguished officers weapon; or the first third of one. Riven removed her hand from it slowly, now clad in a large rune covered gauntlet.

"You wanted to go get it before you met me here?" Celene asked, food in her mouth.

"Gragas doesn't like me having it in the bar and i don't like being without it."

"Why is it broken?" Celene asked.

An awkward pause.

Celene blinked, "I understand you don't like Ionian's much but i didn't mean to pry. It's very obvious is all."

"How do you know how I feel about Ionians," Riven said, sounding angry, Celene thought. Riven bit her lip, an annoying nervous tick she had tried to shoo away.

"I read about all of the Champions before I arrived," Celene lied.

Riven forced herself to her feet. The two looked at each other. Riven stared at her questioningly. Celene looked back with a worried expression. Riven was doing her best to look tough- the reaction it got out of people made her feel safe- but this woman seemed totally unaffected. Celene got to her feet, moving slightly too quick for Riven to remain comfortable. Her feet shifted slightly towards a fighting stance, her knuckles whitening around her sword.

"Relax. Just think about it, if I had wanted to do something hostile, don't you think I would have done it already?" Riven relaxed slightly.

"Hugh," Riven sighed, feeling incredibly stupid. Her stomach growled. Celene smiled at her.

"I wanted to walk with you to the food line, is all." Celene said in a remarkably comforting tone.

"I'm capable of walking there myself." Riven retorted.

"You really didn't like the sword question did you?"

"I don't like nosy people I've just met."

"Does knowing you can kick my ass help at all?" Celene replied.

Riven tilted her head and looked at her questioningly.

"Am i allowed to use magic here?" Celene asked. Riven blinked.

"I believe so." Celene nodded.

"Here, sit back down." Celene motioned, Riven remained standing. Celene looked at her sideways. "Whats your favorite food?"

Another pause.

"Come on Riven, that's a much less personal question." Celene crossed her arms under her cloak.

"I really like Ionian moon cakes." Riven said, almost sheepishly.

"Ah ha!" Celene snapped a pair of fingers guns at her. Riven raised and eyebrow but before the motion was complete Celene was gone in a flash of blue light.

Riven jumped backwards nearly ten feet. her sword raised to guard. There was a pause, the sudden flash had startled more then just her but now everyone was staring at her. she sighed.

Riven looked around awkwardly and decided to seat herself, Just as Celene reappeared seated across from her - Again startling the Exile enough for her to nearly fly out of her chair. "These are from my personal stash, i enjoy them a lot as well." Celene said as she held out a platter of the muffin like pastries to the traumatized exile.

Riven looked at her very cautiously, took one -she examined it carefully and took a bite. Celene smiled at her.

"The poison worked." Riven said after a moment of chewing.

Celene smirked at her "I'm sure."

Riven took another bite. she wasn't kidding about liking moon cakes Celene noted as she finished her first.

Celene set the platter between them and decided to change the subject. "So, what happens during the practice match?" Celene asked, following Riven's eyes with her own. The amber eyed woman paused. She bit her lip.

"Hugh, well. A summoner..." she paused, "summons you to this place they call the Proving Grounds, and they sit in the back of your mind and explain how the League matches work and what to do -basically. Then, they have you fight another champion they believe to be 'balanced' and change the power of some of your skills based on what happens," Riven explained, going over her first league match in her head. She stiffened at the thought of combat.

"Balanced?" Celene tilted her head slightly.

"I'm not sure what it means honestly. That's how the summoner explained it to me when I was first placed on the Proving Grounds." Riven bit her lip, and then forced herself to stop in case Celene noticed. "But, they adjust your skills afterward. It's done through the summoning process, however. Many champions jump at the chance to fight in practice matches. Normally, the summoners pilot your body to fight other champions, it's like you're possessed." Celene stiffened. "In practice matches, that's not the case, nor are the adjustments present."

Celene suddenly felt uncomfortable, she distracted herself, scanning the dinning hall.

The hall was nearly devoid of life. Riven paused in the process of ravaging her food, looking over her shoulder. Celene followed her gaze. Riven eyed a table in the far corner of the dining hall. Sitting at the table were the pair of Demacians Celene had spotted yesterday as well as Elder Summoner Marten and a man and woman Celene hadn't seen before. Both were dressed in very expensive-looking white clothing. The man had a coat with fur from some animal lining the inside, and the woman had a silk scarf, more for show then to keep her warm, and a large amount of jewelry. Celene turned to Riven, who was watching intently.

"The Crownguards?" Celene asked. Riven shrugged. The man gestured to Luxanna, whom seemed to recoil slightly in her chair. Marten sat, ponderous before he spoke. Celene couldn't hear him, but he pointed to her. Everyone at the table turned. Riven began to shrink away. Marten didn't motion for her to come. Celene nodded at him turned to leave. He stood along with everyone else at the table. They began to leave.

"You're going to be summoned soon," Riven stated, watching the party leave the hall. Celene watched them leave, wolfing down her food as if her and Riven had begun racing.

"Should I be worried?" Celene asked between bites. Riven glanced at her.

"That depends on what type of person you are and your skills," she said, taking a large bite out of the mooncake she seemed to love so much. "From what i saw of your hand to hand your stupid tricks with your cloak and defensive style wont help when just Lux vaporizes you." Riven stated flatly.

"Okay, let me rephrase the question. How did you feel during your practice match?" Celene had finished most of her food by now. She was a fast eater. She had needed to fight with others over food before. The habit had been worked into her. Riven pondered the question for a long time. She opened her mouth to answer then closed it a few times over.

Her amber eyes explored the Ionian's deep blue, and Riven considered lying about herself. She was right about her before; the eyes were hollow pits behind an expertly crafted veil of normality that had been removed just for Riven in this moment, she had allowed the the guard to her soul to fall for her to see in. Riven blinked, examining her carefully, and learned a great many things about Celene. Humanity, guilt, anger, grief, and a sense of loss as if she was constantly pondering how much time everyone had left. The striking resemblance between Celene's eyes and the amber pair Riven saw in the mirror made her feel more secure.

Celene knew what she was doing, probing Riven in a similar manner. She respectfully waited for Riven to finish and respond to her question rather than pressing or changing the subject. Her attention was acutely focused on Riven and what she had to say. Finally, the exile sighed and looked down at her plate.

"I was terrified, but when I actually started fighting, I wasn't scared anymore. I just don't panic in a fight. I focus. It's the only reason I'm still alive." She looked away, not comfortable with the amount of information she had revealed. Celene frowned. Something about Riven made her feel sad. Celene glanced around the hall. It was nearly empty aside from the vendors and the woman in the purple dress and tall hat from yesterday. She was eyeing them. Celene turned away from her, just in case she could read lips.

"you were scared today?" Celene asked. Riven snorted.

"No, that wasn't fighting. That was practice." Riven replied. Celene made a face at her.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Celene said, lowering her voice and leaning in. She didn't wait for Riven to answer the question, only until she had her full attention.

"I'm not like other people. I would go far enough not to call myself a person. I get called things like monster, freak, demon, abomination." She paused. The topic was uncomfortable for her, but she felt the need to explain it to somebody. "I don't know how long I've been alive, I can't remember far enough back but I'm old, very, very, very, old." Riven was looking straight at her, listening intently. Celene frowned, the first frown she allowed the Exile to see.

"Because of my nature, it makes me hurt people that don't deserve it. However much I hate myself, I've learned over my long life to accept it, because there isn't much I can do about it, it won't change and I can never truly die," Celene finished. Riven stared hard at her. Her amber eyes felt like they were burning holes in her forehead.

"What are you, exactly...?" Riven asked the question slowly, her voice low and serious.

"If I knew _exactly_ , I would tell you. I have potentially been around forever. As for your question, I've heard terms like ghost, phantom, and monster being used before." Riven's face didn't change. She was stoic as a still lake, her skin like glass. Celene raised her hand to her face, pressing her fingers on her cheek. "This..." She paused.

"This doesn't belong to me; it belongs to an Ionian girl named Earth I met a long time ago. My touch makes the bodies ageless. The worst part of it, they don't die. From what I can tell, they are aware. Earth can see and hear everything I see and hear. She is currently involved in this conversation, seeing me spill my guts to a woman I barely know. I sometimes say I'm sorry in the mirror, but she would never forgive me. I don't want her to," she paused. Her chest hurt, and she felt horrible.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Riven asked, confused. She leaned in. Celene felt her eyes tearing up. She hating crying.

"Because I want a person to judge me for what I am, not for the lie I present to them to stay away from the noose. There is no justice in my existence." Celene muttered, turning her eyes from the Exile. "That's why I came here."

"That's because there is no justice in this world. Just groups of people with different beliefs and morals trying to control each other. Morality is like clay, you can mold it into whatever shape you want with your hand, but it won't protect you from anything. My experiences in Ionia taught me that at the cost of hundreds of lives. Justice is a word used in place of retribution. You should not seek justice, mold your own morals, you should seek peace with yourself and those around you," Riven finished, running low on profound words. Celene sighed.

"That's why you're here, isn't it," Celene asked, resting her face in her hands.

"Violence to end the violence," Riven answered. She had finished her plate. She looked at the sad Ionian form in front of her.

"I don't like to admit it, but I actually enjoy fighting. It makes the real me feel alive. It's hard to explain," Celene said. Riven sighed. She hadn't expected the conversation to get so personal. She had just met this woman.

"Hugh. Can I tell you a secret?" Riven leaned in and asked nervously. Celene raised her head.

"So do I deep down. I think it comes with this," Riven finished, placing her fingers over her heart. Celene managed a smile.

"I knew you were interesting the second I saw you," Celene said. Riven felt a wide smile work its way on to her face for the first time in a long while.

"Have you ever been trained to use a sword?" Riven asked, pulling her sword from the seat beside her and slamming it heavily on the table.

"I personally prefer my natural abilities. May I?" Celene gestured to the sword. Riven nodded, hesitantly releasing her grip from the weapon. Celene wrapped her thin fingers around the weapons handle and pulled. She was unable to lift it. She tried a second time, managing to slide it about a foot across the tabletop. Riven actually felt herself giggle. She covered her face with her hands, trying to hide the sound and the blush that followed. Celene gave up. Riven wrapped her gauntleted hand around the handle, lifting the blade as though it weighed nothing. Celene pouted in response.

"Now, show me your 'sword'," Riven demanded, politely.

"Mine is a lot scarier." Celene reached for her brooch.

 _Now?_ A familiar voice teased through her mind. Celene scowled, earning an odd look.

She paused; thinking twice, smiled, and then held her hand out, thinking about the times she had fought in the past. Celene's chest began to feel warm.

a single glowing blue tendril extended out of her finger tip in an abnormally relaxed manner. Celene noted the lack of a recent memory where she had simply shown them to someone for the sake of doing so.

"Those are strange." Riven half muttered, leaning forward for a closer look.

"I can move these like they're an arm or a leg. I can have as many as I want, make them as long as I want. They're strong, and because of how thin they are, they can slice and puncture with ease." she finished, idly wrapping the tendrils around her fingers. Riven examined one closely. The League was full of interesting creatures with interesting abilities, so this was intriguing rather than surprising. Celene exhaled softly. The blue strands seemed to retract. As to where they actually retracted to, Riven couldn't see. She turned her eyes up to Celene.

"Those are why you're unarmed?" Riven asked. Celene nodded.

"That and weapons have a symbolic quality i dont like -Humanity overcoming the world through ingenuity and the like. I don't consider a weapon to be a fitting accessory of something like me."

Riven nodded and changed the subject. "The Crownguards are likely in the summoning chamber by now; I'd expect you to be summoned any moment."

Celene nodded. An awkward silence followed.

"Excuse me, all this talking has made me hungry again," Riven said as she turned towards the Ionian vender. Celene watched her walk away. She actually felt a twinge of impatience- she was excited. It was rare Celene was given the opportunity to do something she had never done before.

She felt a wave of heat wash over her. Confused, she searched for its source.

 _"Celene, good to talk to you again. It's Marten,"_ a voice in the back of her head sprang up. She could feel the mental connection between them, a soft pull in the back of her mind, tugging at her attention.

"I'm assuming you're summoning me now," she said aloud. She was hardly surprised by the method of contact.

" _That is correct, young lady."_ Celene scowled but quickly got rid of it so her new friend wouldn't see. She saw Riven returning, more mooncakes on her plate.

 _"So how does this work?"_ Celene thought to herself.

" _Like this, don't be alarmed."_ Marten answered. A blue ring of light erupted from the ground around her feet. It pulsed with runes that began to write themselves along the outsides of the ring. It pulsed more intensely.

 _"Hang on a second; summoning you is a tad strange. It's like I'm summoning two people. Don't worry, I don't want to brag, but I'm very good at this."_ Marten said. Riven nodded at her. Celene took that as '"Good luck, don't die."

 _"Okay, here comes the no-fun part. It's always the worst the first time, though, this will get better."_ Marten warned. The circle vanished, and with it, everything. The hall, the smell of food, all sound and Riven. Everything was black for a moment. There was a sound, a buzz that quickly raised to an intense scream. She felt her feet hit solid ground, and with an audible bang, she was standing on a cobblestone platform. Her legs collapsed under her as she fell to her hands and knees. Her stomach retaliated violently. She gritted her teeth, managing to keep the breakfast she had just eaten.

The platform was raised high in the air above a forest of pine trees, the branches blowing in the wind; though the air on the platform was unnaturally still. There was a large structure in front of her. A large blue crystal pulsing with energy floated above it, surrounded by eight robed statues. Each was holding a smaller blue crystal. Beyond that was a large stone statue that resembled a knight or a solder, lacking legs in favor of a circular base lined with glowing runes. It held a shield in its left hand with a blue gem in the center and a staff in its right. The staff was topped with another blue crystal. Beyond that was what looked like a bridge the other side of which was blocked by a fog. She pushed herself back onto her feet and brushed herself off. The nausea passed quickly, and she felt completely normal.

 _"Okay, so, for this, you just need to combat your enemy. Use all skills you have at your disposal if possible, even your nastiest ones."_

 _"I thought you were going to explain stuff to me?"_ Celene questioned.

 _"As it happens."_

 _"Fuck, fine,"_ Celene sighed, her chest beginning to feel hot again. She rubbed at it through her shirt using her magic again was showing its side effects.

"THIRTY SECONDS UNTIL MINIONS SPAWN," the voice of a female announcer boomed over the platform.

 _"Minions?"_ She asked.

 _"You'll see. I'm going to show you what it feels like to be piloted by a summoner, if you don't mind."_ Her limbs suddenly stopped responding and her vision began to haze blue around the edges. Her hand raised without being ordered to do so. Marten inspected her fingernails.

 _"Very unladylike like of you to bite your nails, you know."_ he said snickering. Celene's body took a step. She could still feel her everything as she was walked to the knight-like statue.

 _"Pretty simple, yes? You're in control again now."_ The grip on her released. She felt a tad dizzy. Blinking, she curled her fingers. Control was indeed hers again. She smiled at the irony behind how piloting worked.

"MINIONS HAVE SPAWNED," boomed the announcer. There was the sound of stone scraping on stone behind her. The eight robed statues raised their crystals high above their heads, magical energy arcing wildly between the large center crystal and the small ones. A line of short robed dolls assembled themselves from nothing in front of the structure, wielding what looked like toy weapons. They began to advance forward, passing her and continuing on. Celene watched for a moment before beginning to jog alongside the line of six minions, three of them with metal clubs and three with small wands.

 _"That structure that spawned them is called a nexus. In a normal match, your team wins by forcing a surrender or destroying the enemy's nexus. The arena is mirrored, as is this one. The towering statue you just passed is called...well, a tower. It serves to guard your base until toppled."_ Celene didn't answer back, jogging idly alongside the minions. They passed a second tower. A third was in view, this one facing her with a purple crystal instead of blue.

 _"Okay, so the tower's range is marked by the line of runes on the stone in front of it._ " Celene noted the circular wall of runes etched into the cobblestone in front of the second tower as she passed it. She could see a line of purple minions approaching. The two lines ran right into each other. The minions began clubbing each other around, the wand-wielding ones behind throwing rather harmless looking balls of light. She watched for a moment. It looked like toy soldiers fighting to the death. An odd sight.

 _"Try killing one. In a match, killing a minion, a tower, or a champion will award the summoner with 'gold', which they can use to buy items, which augment your abilities. We aren't doing any of that here, but try anyway."_ Celene watched for a moment, nodding in comprehension. She spied a minion that seemed to be getting ganged up on by a several others. She centered herself, her chest began to feel hot and strands of blue extending from her fingers. She raised her arm and pointed at the minion almost lazily. The blue strand extended with blinding speed, spearing the construct. It fell to the ground and vaporized into purple ashes.

"Heh," she half giggled. Panning her hand to another one, she jabbed it through what would be its face. It fell as well and vaporized.

 _"Very interesting, Celene"_ Marten said.

Her wave of minions was gaining ground. She continued for a moment or two before her line advanced to the tower. The purple crystal glowed brightly before blasting the closest advancing minion with a bolt of purple energy. With a bang, the minion vanished. After a few seconds, the whole line was gone.

 _I see,_ she thought. "That's fun."

" _Well get good at it, it's very important."_

Celene spotted movement in the distance. A thin figure stepped out from behind the tower. The figure advanced, but did not step over the line of runes that marked her tower's range. Celene had seen the Demacian mage the day before. She smiled widely.

"My name is Luxanna Crownguard, the Lady of Luminosity and the shining beacon of the King and Demacian justice," she said giving a deep bow.

 _Justice,_ Celene thought, remembering what Riven had said. Lux reached for a baton that hung from her hip by a metal ring on her armor. Celene had taught herself to avoid combat, at least to this extent. Exposing herself often had unsavory consequences. Humans were expected to abhor violence and Celene for all her wanton attempting at humanity tried; but violence… Something about it, she just adored, though she dared not admit it.

" _Celene. I can feel that"_ Marten said calmly. _"Look youngster, I read your file, I know you're fighting with yourself but we need a solid test of your abilities…"_

 _I know._ Celene thought to herself.

She swallowed and composed herself; allowing her impulsive nature control, she smiled. A prickle of excitement washed over her body.

" _There you go; now, kill her. Or try to –you know, for science."_

Lux went on, noting Celene's silent staring. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I represent the righteous flag of Demacia on the Fields of Justice today." She pointed the baton at Celene. The last of the Ionian's self-control fell. She felt her chest burn, her smile turning to a smirk, then to an ear-to-ear grin. Excitement taking hold, her morality fired back at her but she shoved it away. Part of her had been waiting for this -for so long; though not for this blonde young woman. Celene redirected that part towards the mage in front of her and the heat in her chest reached near unbearable heights.

Celene eyed her new target excitedly, savoring the tension with zeal rather unlike the facade she put on for others and herself. She could see Lux's knuckles tighten on her baton. Celene felt her eyes dilating, her heart rate increasing; a small shiver ran up her spine. The Ionian exhaled a heavy sigh, half excitement and half meditation as she flexed her fingers under her cloak. All of Celene's knuckles popped in gorgeous sequence and she spoke, this wasn't going to be like her little match with Riven. "My name is Celene. I am the monster that is going to ruin your day. It's nothing personal." Lux tensed slightly, expecting the manners to be returned. Celene noted the odd absence of the wispy inflection in her speech. Her pitch had sharpened keenly to an almost euphoric razor point.

"Is that so?" She advanced a step, spinning on her toe as she spun her baton. An orb of twisting light flew directly towards Celene. The world slowed to near half its normal speed as a flood of adrenaline washed over the small Ionian. Celene loved this feeling and the moment it hit her she knew she was free. No more control.

 _Finally._

She felt herself stick to the ground as the orb got within proximity. Drawing a breath, she disappeared. The light mage paused, scanning for her target. The only sound was the soft buzz coming from the twisting mass of light.

Back in the summoning chamber Marten looked across his orb to the summoner managing Lux. Summoner Beyal. "That's so busted." Beyal muttered. Marten nodded, Celene would probably need some adjustment.

"Coward, huh? That's okay, many run at the sight of the Demacian standard," Lux said loudly.

"A coward?" The voice was soft, coming from below her. Lux snapped her eyes down. Celene was laying on her back, her arms crossed behind her head, neatly between Lux's ankles. She smiled up at her as Lux gasped in surprise. Lux slid her baton through her hand until she was holding it by its end, swinging it down with a feminine squeak, like a club. Celene vanished again, reappearing instantly on her feet in front of the mage. She stepped on the baton's end as it struck the cobblestone with a clunk, pinning it. The Ionian paused, allowing Lux time to process what was happening. She noted the shifts in her expression, unconcealed emotion jumping across her face.

"I feel like coward might be the wrong word." Celene said as Lux stepped backward, attempting to retreat to the safety of her tower. Strands of blue climbed up the staff from Celene's foot, reaching Lux's wrist, and wrapping around. They forced their way under her fingers. Lux yelped at the sudden invasion of her personal space. Stepping back again she gritted her teeth, attempting to rip her hand free of the strands. Celene blinked. The strands shortened, pulling the young mage towards her attacker. She stumbled, but kept her balance. The mage caught herself and let go of the baton, moving her hands in a circular motion, and swooped her arm at Celene. A line of light shot forward. Celene disappeared before it collided with her. Reappearing next to the mage, she whipped her wrist, sending a small barrage of blue strands towards Lux. The mage's eyes snapped to hers. She snapped her fingers and thrust her palms outwards at her sides, a glimmering sphere of light appearing around her. The blue tendrils struck the orb of light, bouncing limply off. Lux stepped on the end of her baton, snapping into the air, her fingers coiling around it. Not wasting the momentum, she spun, sending another twisting orb of light towards Celene. Celene disappeared again, reappearing at the edge of her own tower's range. With her opponent sized up Celene decided to rethink her strategy. The mage seemed to struggle up close, but had range on her, and she could just retreat to her tower.

"Is that all you do, run and flick string at me?" Lux shouted from the other end of the battlefield. Celene almost laughed at Lux's extraordinary underestimation of her. She took a step forward and locked eyes with the light mage. Her chest felt like it was going to explode. She wanted out. She wanted Lux.

" _What a naïve little prodigy. Any and all skills, Marten?"_

 _"You holding back is going to make this take longer –so If you please, Miss Celene,"_ he replied. His tone told her he was enjoying himself. Celene cracked an amused smile at Marten's misunderstanding of the situation.

"Any and all," she repeated aloud. She extended her arms to their full length and spread her fingers. Bright blue tendrils exploded from her arms and back, flying in a wave at the mage. She felt her eyes begin to glow as she stared down Lux. Lux's eyes widened. She threw her baton towards the advancing wave, surrounding herself with the same sphere of protective light as the baton returned like a boomerang. The tendrils struck the shield with audible force. It held fast under the barrage of blue cord. Celene flicked her wrist, the tendrils smashed against the shield again, much harder this time. Cracks began to appear. Lux noticed, leaning to her left and breaking into a full sprint as the shield gave in. The tendrils turned, following her. She dove forward into a roll as one managed to wrap itself around her foot.

Celene flicked her wrist. Lux was lifted mid-dive and thrown a good fifty feet down the lane, towards the monster. Lux struck the ground and tumbled, managing to convert the kinetic energy into a backwards roll. She landed neatly on her feet, her baton still firmly in her hand. She swung it at Celene, sending another twisting ball of light towards her. Celene disappeared, appearing less than an inch from the mage's face. She felt her nose brush Lux's.

"Hello." Celene said.

The mage yelped and recoiled. Celene grabbed the front of her breastplate and pulled her forward, putting her off balance. She opened her mouth and bit down on the side of Lux's neck. An iron taste flooded her mouth.

The mage screamed in pain and surprise, balling her hand into a fist and swinging at the side of Celene's head. A wall of blue tendrils intercepted the blow, wrapping their way around the mage's fist. Forcing their way between her fingers, up her arm, under her sleeve, and inside her white silk glove. The two met in a few milliseconds of eye contact. Just long enough for Celene to convey to Lux that she was a plaything, the test was a game to the Ionian. This made Lux very angry.

Lux gritted her teeth, swinging her knee upward and planting it in Celene's groin. Celene let go of the mage's neck with her teeth. Lux swung her head forward, her forehead smacking Celene on the nose. Celene's hands shot to her face as the mage took a step back and flicked her baton. A blast of light erupted from the end just as Celene looked up, blinding her. Lux flicked it again and a bolt of light struck Celene, ropes of light wrapping around her feet and arms. Lux cocked her arm back and swung the baton. A small spear of light struck Celene. The ropes brightened and exploded, sending her backwards off her feet. The monster tumbled; her new cloak tangled around her as she bounced once and came to rest splayed on her back.

There was a pause.

" _She got you pretty good, I felt that."_ Marten commented.

"Ow..." Celene drew a pained breath and forced herself to her feet her vision blurred, her skin burning. Lux stood clutching her shoulder. The wound was staining her white gloves crimson. She glared, pointing her baton at Celene's face. Her smile was gone, her teeth gritted aggressively. Celene felt anger turning in her chest, her eyes narrowed at the light mage. The standoff lasted for a few moments as neither moved. The area around Lux began to dim noticeably, her staff glowing brightly.

"Burn under the lights of Demacian justice, monster!" Lux said softly. Her voice was devoid of its spring in favor of a lower and more threatening angry tune, the staff was blinding now.

Celene knew she had to move. She disappeared. Lux scanned for her target. Spotting Celene to her left, she swung the baton fully extended at arm's length. Celene noted she was trying to point it at her and ducked inside her guard. The baton met her forearm; as Celene's other hand closed around the mage's neck. A beam of blinding light erupted from the baton's end, just behind Celene's head, sending a shiver down her spine. The hair hanging too close instantly vaporized as the beam put a neat circular hole in Lux's tower. As Celene's grip tightened, Lux instinctively wrapped her fingers around Celene's wrist as her baton-wielding hand was pinned by Celene's left. The pair scuffled for a moment, but with her superior experience Celene managed to force the mage onto her back, pinning her baton to the ground. Lux kicked at her, but her armored boots failed to get the leverage needed to do more than sting. The mage was struggling to breathe. Lux managed to shift just enough to allow herself leverage, her baton slammed into the side of Celene's head. Stars flashed across her vision as she absorbed the blow and snarled.

Lux's arm was primed for a second strike but she paused when the Ionian woman's grip on her throat tightened beyond what Celene strength could possibly allow. Celene lifted her hand away from the mage's throat; tendrils from Celene's fingers and coiled tightly around her neck, so tightly thin trails of blood begun to emerge. Celene caught the baton in her hand as Lux attempted to club her a second time. There was a pause as the Ionian made eye contact the world fell silent as Lux's oxygen deprived senses began to fall. Celene felt the corner of her lip twitch; blood poured down the right side of her face where lux had hit her and her body informing her painfully of the damage was only making her angrier.

Lux was struggling frantically now. Her expression had shifted from anger to panic. Celene leaned in, pressing her forehead against Lux's. The coil of tendrils around Lux's neck had snaked downward, entangled her extremities, and immobilized her. Celene's other hand grabbed Lux's chin just after the mage drew a sharp breath and began to splutter. Celene forced Lux to look at her, commanding her attention.

"What was it you were saying? Monster?" Celene asked with a sadistic smile. There was another pause. "You have absolutely no grasp of the word… _Monster_." Celene twisted the baton away from between Lux's fingers and tossed it aside. She loosened the cords grip, allowing the mage to breathe. Celene closed her eyes, exhaling through her bleeding nose, and released all of the heat in her chest in a long sigh. Blue strands erupted from Celene's back, coiling around the two like snakes. Lux began to struggle again, gritting her teeth in pain as they probed at the bite wound.

Celene eyed the woman below her. She had begun to scream in distress, thrashing against Celene. The strands began protruding from between the Ionian's thin lips. She parted them and slowly began to draw herself out of the body as if shedding an unwanted item of clothing. Celene paused, keeping just barely enough control to register Lux's horrified expression. She had stopped screaming and simply stared at the sheer volume of blue tendrils calmly shifting above her with more still coming. Her brow furled in distress as she could only allow her mind to conjure up all sorts of terrible fates for her; all of which better then what was actually about to happen.

"Mercy…" Lux whimpered. All at once, Celene fell limp as the mass began to extract itself farther. She landed on Lux's chest, seemingly dead. Lux didn't notice, too busy with the ever growing mass that loomed over her threateningly, coiling. "Please…Mercy. Mercy! –Mercy!"

It lunged.

The thin tendrils darted towards her face. Even with her lips pursed tightly, a pair carefully wriggled in past them and forced their way between Lux's clenched teeth. Lux bit down and regretted immediately, the tendrils didn't yield at all against her teeth, sending a painful shock through her jaw. Her hands and legs were now free. Lux grabbed at the invaders, her boots kicking at the ground to get her farther from her attacker. It was at this point Lux learned of the strands' strength. With near comical ease the pair of tendrils calmly forced Lux's teeth apart and held her mouth ajar. She made a sound, a squeak but Celene didn't give her time to ponder as the large mass darted for the opening. Her access to oxygen was removed all at once. Lux's gag reflex protested but it didn't matter. They pushed, and she was forced to swallow. Her eyes squeezed shut. She could feel the strands force their way under her skin. Tears streamed down her face as she began to surrender. She wanted it to stop but it didn't.

Something pulled at the back of her thoughts, an odd presence. It felt like an oil slick flooding her head. Her body burned in protest, but she had no strength left. She curled herself into a ball and the strands seemed to disappear down her throat. Her ability to breathe was returned. She spluttered and began to cough. A wave of convulsions and pain struck her like a landslide as her motor control was ripped from her.

" _Lux! Are you alright!?"_ Summoner Beyal barked in the back of her head. She choked out heavy sobs, unable to formulate clear thought. She tried to move her hand to wipe her eyes as she began to recover. The limb refused to obey. The fingers curled and uncurled on their own, Lux felt a grin rising on her lips that wasn't hers. She began to panic.

Beyal flinched as hysteria leaked across the mental connection. "What the fuck!" shouted the summoner as he stole an uncomfortable look at Marten. The elder summoner was frantically incanting; attempting to restore his shattered connection with Celene. Beyal was shocked; all at once, he felt the tether with Lux snap. For a brief moment, neither summoner had any idea what was happening.

"Shit!" marten shouted, and began incanting again. Beyal did the same, both summoners trying to find either of their Champions in the mess of mental connections and thoughts.

Marten got through first; he had found Celene and latched on.

"Got her!" he shouted, he flicked his ob to make sure the enchantments on the field were working.

"LUXANNA HAS BEEN SLAIN," boomed the announcer. It echoed through the summoning chamber and Marten exhaled. Thankfully they were

Beyal looked at his orb puzzled.

"This was a mistake." Marten rasped. Sweat pooled on his forehead as he attempted to force the mental connection.

"I can't get through to Lux at all, it's like she doesn't exist." Beyal bit his lip in stress.

"Yea I've noticed, Celene's conciseness seems to be… Beyal, break off; let me try and get to Lux." Marten ordered. Beyal obeyed and took his hands away from the orb in front of him. The old mage began to tinker with the delicate structure of the spell, attempting to fabricate a connection.

* * *

Celene's new lips shaped to make a whimsical whistle, testing her new voice and enjoying the extraordinary high. If Lux couldn't whistle before she probably could now. Celene pushed her old body off her and looked up at the sky. Lux watched helplessly through eyes that no longer belonged to her.

" _Celene. Holy shit!"_

 _"Oh._ _Marten, you still there?"_ Celene thought, running a silk-gloved hand through her new blonde hair. She blinked, watching the clouds overhead for a moment before she sat up.

 _"Holy fucking shit,"_ Marten replied. _"This is… I… I need to think."_ Celene held up Lux's baton, examining herself in its reflective surface. She was covered in blood. She brushed her messy blond hair aside and took a moment to examine herself, running her silk-gloved hands up along her thighs. She made a face. She felt her stomach, sliding her hands under the armor, and felt her breast. She ran her fingers through her hair and felt her hips. This wasn't her favorite body. After being used to her old one, it felt too heavy. Lux was by no means overweight but Celene's old body was roughly one hundred pounds, she guessed it wouldn't be hers much longer. Celene looked at her old body, lying limp beside her, still drawing breath.

That's when the high faded; the trauma she'd likely inflicted sinking in. The reality hit Celene like battering ram. An explosion of guilt sprang up in her new heart. As sadistic as she was, she really hated doing this, but the League of Legends offered certain leniencies. _The damage was by no means unrepairable._ She told herself. She sighed, knowing what she was doing; that she was lying again. Celene decided to be responsible –Lux deserved that much at least.

"I'm sorry," she said aloud to Lux whom she knew was listening. "I'll return it in a moment."

 _"I think how we're going to do this is summon the two of you back, so you can return Luxanna's body."_ A ring of light appeared around Lux's feet. The runes danced. She inhaled through her nose, relaxing her muscles. The world vanished all at once. There was a moment's pause. Celene tried to imagine what Lux was thinking. She frowned. The ground hit her feet. Celene wobbled but kept her balance.

 _Better than before,_ she thought. She panned her head around the room. She was in a dimly lit stone chamber, shaped like an eight. In the middle she stood, Celene's body lying on the floor face up. Between the two of them was Marten and another summoner in purple robes.

"Holy shit Lux are you alright?" the summoner in purple robes shouted.

"Luxanna," Marten said. Celene panned to him.

"Me or her?" Lux's body answered.

"We both know which." Marten looked at her oddly.

"Lux, we are going to try and reacquaint you with your body now, that must be rather terrifying, but it's temporary," Marten stated. He motioned with his hand to the body lying on the floor. Lux advanced on it. She wanted to get this over with, as guilt was starting to overwhelm her. She paused. The door to the chamber burst open. The large Demacian soldier ducked into the chamber sword drawn, the two elder Crownguards in tow. He stared hard at Lux and advanced. Celene felt her new feet slide into stance. There was a heat in her chest. The soldier slowed and dropped his sword and pulled her into a tight hug, lifting Celene and her new body off the ground. His armor was cold and hard against her cheek, her arms pinned under his. After a moment, he let her down. The man flinched, noticing her eyes glowing unnaturally.

"My sister is okay, isn't she?" He asked. His voice was hard, but his face softened in the blue light. He grabbed Celene by her shoulders as if to shake her for information on Lux's condition but held her still. His face told her that he was completely unsure how to approach Lux's situation.

"She's not in any danger, but _okay_? I can imagine she's pretty fucking terrified." Celene said. Her brother recoiled. Lux and Celene spoke very differently, His sister perfectly mimicking Celenes thin accent and inflection. It was very strange. She eyed him, raising an eyebrow. It felt odd and she raised a gloved hand to her brow.

"Heh," she giggled, "she plucks her eyebrows, I'm honestly not sure why that's amusing," she said, turning her eyes to the wide-eyed Crownguards. There was a silence.

"Listen to me, creature." Garen said softer than normal. "If my sister is hurt, so help me…"

Celene broke at that point. The guilt and anger she had been suppressing exploded once prodded by him. Lux's hands came up and shoved Garen. Though unbenounced to Garen himself the blue tendrils extending from her fingers provided most of the force. He slide rather than stumbled a good few feet backward. "Get the fuck out of my face and listen to me!" Celene snapped. She glared at Lux's parents, cowering behind Garen. Garen blinked in shock at Celene's ability to move him.

"You too!" Celene barked the Crownguard parents. Her voice raised to a shout, echoing off the chamber walls as everyone back away from her.

"You think I like this!?" Celene motioned to Lux as though she were herself. "See you're lucky because YOU were born. YOU have a place for your soul to sit then you grow and, die and fuck off to somewhere else!"

Celene advanced a step. "I don't have a choice! I never in all my life had a choice! I'm fucked!" Lux's thin, gloved finger pointed to Celene's old body, still breathing on the chamber floor. "She is just like Lux; everybody I've ever been in has been just like Lux. All of them are dead now but sucks for me because I'm Immortal. I have to be in a body. If I'm not, guess what happens; I possess whichever is closest!"

"I was told, to show off what I can do. You are in the fucking League of Legends, people die here. Every one of these 'Champions' has killed someone, including Lux herself. There is NOWHERE else for me to be!" Celene feel silent. At that point, Celene's anger began to give way to an unyielding ocean of depression.

"What are you…?" Garen muttered, shocked.

Celene sighed through Lux's nose, her shoulders slackened. "I have no idea… I'm going to return your sister now, alright? I promise it won't look like it did in that match, I was..." She paused.

"Excited," she turned her head to the body lying on the platform, her eyes casting blue light over it. She took a step and nearly lost her balance. Lux was proportioned differently than her. She regained her footing and advanced, kneeling down in front of her old body; Earth's body. Her eyes went wide, the breathing quickening as the body snatcher leaned over her. Her face screamed in distress but she seemed to lack the motor control to do much besides stare.

"I'm sorry, I know this isn't fair. I will try to work something out to make your life better. This won't hurt, I promise," Celene lied. She put her hand on her heart. The breastplate was in the way. She quickly undid the clasps and lifted it off over her head. The heat was building in her chest. She turned to look at the summoners and Crownguards, all of whom were watching intently. She started to release herself. Blue strands punched their way out of her back. She arched her back and yelped in pain, her breathing quickening. The mass wasn't twisting and writhing excitedly it had before. It was waving in the air, like long hair under water. They grew in length and number. Moments went by before Celene had fully removed herself from Lux's body. She felt her control receding. With the last of it, she lifted Earth and pulled her into a tight hug. The blue strands wrapped around the two of them. Celene thought for a moment, trying to figure out the least painful way to do this. There wasn't a painless one, but she settled on the ripping-off-a-bandage method. The strands all at once parted her mouth and slide inside with no resistance. Her eyes went wide. She arched in against Lux, her short nails digging into the light mage's shoulders. The strands receded into their familiar home, removing themselves from Lux. Lux collapsed and began to cough.

After a few seconds, they were gone. Celene blinked. After a brief moment of lifeless, incorporeal non-existence, she was now looking at the mage that had her arms around her. Lux looked rather shocked, her eyes wide. She blinked, and then blinked again, realizing she was doing it. Celene got to her feet, prying the mage's arms from around her. She stood and offered her hand to the mage. Lux looked at it, and then to Celene, who was smiling. Lux's blue gave her a glare back as she slapped the hand away from her, pushing herself shakily to her feet on her own.

"Monster." Lux said bluntly. Celene's smile disappeared and she let out a depressed sigh.

"I know," she muttered, turning her eyes, now brightly glowing, from the mage. She felt sick. A conversation was started among the Crownguards. Celene didn't hear it. Everything reduced to a dull drone. She looked at the hand Lux had slapped away. A hand landed on her shoulder, turning to it, she was relieved to see that it was wrinkled and covered in liver spots.

"This is combat," he said softly. "You won and she's angry she lost in front of her parents." Celene turned to him.

"Did you see any of what I just did?! Nothing about that bothers you?!" She asked, her voice almost scolding. Marten's face didn't change.

"No, because you are unique. While that was… shocking I can tell you try not to hurt people. –for what it's worth the same can't be said for many of the other champions." Celene turned away from him.

"Only after I've already done it do I feel guilty, up until then..." She drew in a breath and she felt herself beginning to sob. Anger sparked up in her chest, her nose wrinkling "Up until then, I enjoy it." Marten's face was ponderous. He sighed.

"Look Celene… I made a mistake. When I told you any and all skills I wasn't expecting… 'That.'" Marten put his hand on her shoulder looked at her hard. No cheery smile, no perk eyebrows just flatness. Celene flicked her eyes to the hand irritating her with its presence. Marten refused to move it, commanding her attention. "Young lady, I'm not going to pamper you like a child, and you know what you are and what you've done. I do not have the authority to decide what becomes of you or if anything you do is justified; that is not my call."

He let go of her. She felt a burning self-loathing in her chest. She turned her eyes to the light mage. Lux no longer looked angry, she looked vacant. Could she just have been upset about losing in front of her parents? Celene straightened up, pushing the self-loathing away. There were no room for destructive feelings in her body. Her logic told her there was no way to act on them. They just resided in her as a punishment for existing, something she could not help. She was doing what she was told. Had Marten not asked her to demonstrate her skills none of this would have happened. She drew a breath and wiped her eyes. She suddenly felt angry she was blaming the older man.

 _I didn't do anything wrong,_ she reassured herself. She approached the group of Demacians. The soldier turned. Looking down at her, his mouth was not visible past the breastplate of his thick armor.

"I'm sorry, I..." she began.

"Enough!" He raised his gauntleted hand to her face. "I will not lie and say I am capable of understanding you or your situation, therefore, I cannot pass judgment on you. The summoner has taken responsibility for you." Marten nodded as Garen lowered his hand. "But, you clearly hold no hatred for Demacia or my sister, and as such, will not be treated as an enemy." He snuck in a glare at Lux.

"How do you know I don't hold hatred for you and your people?" Celene asked softly. Garen's face stiffened.

Lux stepped passed her brother, right up to the smaller Ionian. "Listen to me…" she said calmly. Celene blinked. Lux snarled and slapped her across the face. "LISTEN TO ME!" she shrieked. "Do you have any idea what that felt like?! I have killed dozens of people and been slain on the fields more times than I can even remember and NOTHING was as invasive and disgusting as what you just did."

Celene's face landed in her hands. "I was doing what I was to-"

"Don't give me that. You were angry. You were angry that I hurt you. You may not have any control over whatever the fuck you are but you don't have an excuse for lacking self-control!"

At this Celene just laughed. Lux bristled like a wet cat.

"Self-control?" she said, her hand closed on the brooch holding her cloak around her shoulders and she began arguing with herself even more than Lux. The Ionian eyed Lux as the awaited the rest of her explanation.

"Both of you shut the fuck up." Marten said flatly. Everyone give him a startled look. "Lux, it's my fault; she was doing what she was told. If that is not good enough for you than you have a lot to learn about war. Celene; you have serious issues with your self-control do not act as if you don't, own up and work on fixing it. I'm assigning you a mandatory therapist. Both of you kiss and make up, I've got shit to do so get out." Marten sighed and pointed at the door.

Celene groaned. "Again, I'm sorry. I know that's not enough, but I can't be forgiven for anything I've done. I should really try and come to terms with it."

"Don't. The moment you come to terms with it is the moment it wins." Lux crossed her arms. Celene stared at her stunned. "If you actually mean it, then you can't" she turned her back on Celene and returned to her family.

"You really have no reason to trust me." Celene pointed out.

"I don't, but I do trust Marten." Lux said flatly.

Celene reexamined her. It looked as if Lux was beginning calm down. Celene felt relieved, she just wanted to run away from what she was and pretend she was normal for a bit. Lux appeared to have gotten the explosion she was looking for and had begun to spin down from her rage. _Just keep going, you don't have a choice._

Celene sighed softly. She was feeling a bit better, she noted as she pulled her cloak around herself. It was cold in the stone chamber and the cloak smelled softly of apples. Relaxing, she inhaled the scent and turned towards the pair of summoners.

* * *

The assassin lay on her bed. Her room was dimly lit, no light from outside entering past the bookcase she had pushed in front of her window. She idly flicked a throwing knife from her belt at her ceiling. The knife stuck in with a heavy thunk next to the others. Her hand fell to her belt, her fingers groping for another knife, finding none. She narrowed her eyes at the neat two-inch group of knives sticking from her ceiling. The assassin sat up, releasing the wave of red hair that was trapped under her back and reached for the knives. She nimbly removed each and flopped back onto her bed. She began to sharpen each before returning them neatly to her belt.

The process took several minutes. She reached the last knife, pausing. She turned it over in her hand. There was a small nick in the blade that set it apart from the others, though it didn't really affect its use. The knife was special. She ran her fingers over the left side of her face, tracing a thin line of scar tissue that went from roughly halfway up her forehead down through her eyebrow, over her eye, and down her cheek.

Katarina felt her eyes narrow. Turning the knife in her hand, she was bored, but it was too early to sleep. She growled to herself and rolled onto her side, still rolling the knife in her fingers.

 _I need to kill something,_ she thought. There was a sound and her green eyes turned to her door.

Tap, tap, tap, and then a pause. The tapping resumed.

"God dammit, fuck off!" She yelled, flinging the knife at the door. It embedded itself neatly with a heavy thunk. A loud squawk of surprise came from the other side. There was silence. Katarina sighed and closed her eyes.

Tap tap tap.

Her eyes snapped back open. She rolled onto her back, groaning.

"Fuck, fine!" She yelled at the door, pushing herself off her bed onto her feet. She stomped her way to the heavy door and pulled the knob. The door flew open to reveal a nightgown clad, glaring Katarina with a belt full of freshly sharpened throwing knives in one hand, the other white-knuckled around her brass doorknob. A large crow stood before her. The two glared at each other. Neither hid their dislike for the other. The crow cawed at her loudly and held out its leg. Two slips of paper were neatly tied around its ankle. The assassin groaned and knelt down. Her fingers fumbled at the string tying the notes to the bird's leg as she tackled a particularly annoying knot. The bird cawed at her to hurry up. She responded by slapping it on the side of the head. The crow squawked and lost its balance, flapping wildly as it got to its feet again. Katarina glared at it.

"Hold still, you fucking pigeon," she said through gritted teeth, pulling the paper free. The crow took flight the instant she was finished. It flew down the hall and out of sight. She followed it with her eyes before returning to her room and slamming the door. She unrolled the first slip of paper.

"I've been told there will be a practice match today, and I thought you would jump at the chance to fight without summoners bothering you. I already put your name in." She felt a smile cross her lips. An excuse to release the day's frustration, and a very good one at that. She crumpled the note in her hand and flicked it into the growing pile in the corner of her room. She opened the second one.

"Move your bookshelf." Her smile vanished. The note got the same treatment as the last.

"Fuck you, Swain," she growled. She crossed her room in two strides, planting her hands on the bookshelf. She leaned in and twisted it around, so the shelves were now facing the window. She felt herself snicker at what she had done. In the process, Katarina was blasted by the chill wind coming over the mountains. The assassin shivered, her skin becoming covered in goosebumps. As much as she wanted to be lazy, the lure of possible combat was too much. Katarina turned her head to the limp pile of leather armor and daggers in the corner. With a sigh, she surrendered, and leaned in. The assassin lazily stepped out of her nightgown, pulled the armor up off the floor by the shoulders, and shook it, removing the crumpled pieces of paper from it, before tossing it on her bed. She leaned in again, grabbing the tight leather chaps. With the some effort she pulled them on and they squeezed her thighs tightly, keeping any excess flesh out of the way, allowing the freest movement possible. Finally Katarina strapped the belt covered in knives around her hips, letting it hang instead of fully tightening it. Katarina lifted the chest piece from her bed and wrapped it around her stomach backwards. She did the clasps and twisted it around her torso so it faced the right way before pulling it up. Katarina bit her lip as she pushed her breasts into the front of the leather chest piece. Katarina wiggled the armor slightly until it was comfortable, then did the strap over the top of her cleavage that prevented her breasts from simply falling out, should she be upside-down. She frowned. Why armorers insisted on showing cleavage was beyond her.

 _Pigs,_ she thought. Katarina really hated having breasts in the first place. With a scowl she pushed the thought to the back of her mind as she swung the small jacket around her shoulders. As she bent down to the remaining steel in the pile her scowl began to morph into a grin as a small twinge of excitement appeared. She threw the pile onto her bed and sitting next to it -she took two long cutlasses and seated them on her hips before grabbing the other two and seating them crossed on her back. She pulled her hair out of the way, sliding more throwing knives into the holsters on her thighs and upper arms.

 _Katarina,_ a voice rang up in the back of her head.

"What the fuck do you want?" She said aloud, pulling a brush from her dresser drawer and plunging the bristles into the mass of red.

" _The draft has finished. We have requested that you serve as our team's middle lane champion."_ She pulled the brush through her three feet worth of hair. She didn't need to answer.

"What time?" She was smiling.

" _Sooner rather than later. We are still doing legis-"_ The summoner was cut off as she severed the link. She was excited. It had been a few days since she had been summoned, and that match was less then spectacular, as her summoner was inexperienced. Her smile vanished as she hit a tangle. Gritting her teeth, she forced the brush through it. She returned to her thoughts. A practice match though- there was a new champion involved. She felt the slightest bit intrigued. The match was going to be much better. She finished with her hair and tossed the brush into the corner with all the paper. Leaning forward, she pulled a pair of heavy leather combat boots from under her bed, the cleats digging into the wooden floor. They were easily the heaviest piece of equipment she was wearing. She pulled them on, putting her weight into the straps. She slid a boot knife into each, pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves, then stood. Her fingers wrapped around her doorknob and pulled it open, her foot cocked back, ready to introduce itself to any annoying crows that may be waiting. No crows, she stepped from her door and marched down the hall, towards the summoning chambers. Practice match meant there was somebody new, and the assassin was intent on meeting this new champion to see what she could learn- a habit that had been pushed onto her after the introduction of Graves, the Outlaw.

Katarina rounded the final corner between her and her destination. A line of simple wooden doors stood on the left side of the hall. New champions were always shown the summoning chambers before their practice match. It was done when she first joined the League of Legends. The only exception to this was if the champion was unreasonably dangerous. Some of the chambers were sealed off and used to house such champions. The easternmost chamber directly to her left was a good example. The chamber door had two boards nailed to it in a cross. Katarina leaned against the boarded door, sliding down against it until she was sitting. She was not there for long. A door midway down the hall opened. Out ducked Garen, an uncomfortable-looking Lux and two people the assassin recognized from the many Noxian military meetings she was forced to attend as two of the elder Crownguards.

Katarina was surprised Swain hadn't known of their coming, though it was possible he did and neglected to tell her or simply didn't care if she knew. Two summoners left a moment after- Elder Summoner Marten and High Summoner Beyal. Garen and Luxanna spotted the assassin that lurked at the end of the hall as they approached. The Might of Demacia motioned for the Crownguards to stay behind him and Lux and continued forward towards Katarina. She snickered to herself, almost insulted by the reaction. For her to attempt anything would be foolish. Finally, what the assassin was waiting for. A figure she hadn't seen before left the chamber. The League's new champion was a small Ionian girl, all but her head and her feet covered by a brown traveling cloak. Elder Summoner Marten turned his head and spoke to her, then pointed towards the redhead at the end of the hallway. The Ionian looked up at Katarina, a small smile appearing on her face as she advanced. The hair on the back of Katarina's neck stood up- she seemed so familiar! The assassin stared hard at the approaching Ionian, wracking her brain for where they had met before.

Garen and his overly guarded kin reached the entrance to the Demacian hallway. The two eyed each other for a moment before the assassin's green eyes fell to Lux. Something about her was wrong. The Sinister Blade raised an eyebrow as she noticed the girl wasn't smiling. Her face was impassive. For Lux, such a lack of expression meant something. Her eyes turned again to the League's new summoner-flanked introduction.

Even if she did not remember who this person was, she could already tell they would not get along. The newcomer stopped short of the Neutral Champion quarters.

"Hello, Katarina," she said softly. Katarina blinked in surprise. The newcomer extended a small hand through her cloak. The assassin's eyes fell to her hand, and then traveled their way up the arm, over the shoulder, and to the eyes of the newcomer. They were blue, very odd for an Ionian. Something in them Katarina found very distasteful, like looking down a bottomless pit. Katarina's brain clicked. The blurred memory of her fight in the woods. The faint glow of the blue eyes, the thin Ionian accent and pitched voice. Katarina felt her eye twitch.

"You." Katarina snarled softly.

"Actually my name is Celene," she said giving something between a bow and nod as she retracted her hand into the cloak. Her eyes locked with the Assassins. -gaze sharpening into something threatening "But yes –Me; Hello!"

"You two know each other?" Summoner Beyal asked.

"Old friends. I've been trying to get my hands on her for -what are you now, twenty six?," Celene answered. Katarina was instantly on her feet. The metal scrape of a blade being drawn was the only sound. Celene didn't move as the sharp tip of a cutlass pressed against her throat. Both summoners jumped back in surprise. Katarina stood straight, holding the blade at arm's length, downward. Celene looked her square in the eyes, her smile sharping.

"We were about to go eat." The assassin could feel her throat, moving through the thin blade as she formed the words. "Would you like to join us?" She could not help but raise an eyebrow. She either completely did not intimidate this girl, or she was skillfully making the biggest bluff of her life. The idea made her even angrier. She lifted the cutlass and swung it down at the girl's neck, stepping into swing and exhaling through her nose. She stopped the weapon just as it met flesh, not leaving a scratch. The girl remained apathetic and still, not a flicker of doubt in her blue gaze.

"No?" She blinked as though nothing was out of place, shifting her weight impatiently to one foot.

"Fuck you..." Katarina's voice was as dangerous as she could make it, leaning in slightly to emphasize the words. "Next time I see you, I'm going to gut you like a fish." She sheathed the weapon back on her hip and stood back at her full five foot ten inches.

The Ionian shrugged lazily. "Suit yourself," Celene said and turned. Her back was to the assassin. Both summoners stood with their mouths hanging open as wide as a wizard's sleeve. Eyes flicked between the two champions as Celene, with some effort, pushed the doors to the Neutral Champions hall open and slipped between them. The summoners, not sure what to do and not wanting to be near the assassin now, hurried after her.

The assassin was left alone. She wasn't sure how to comprehend how the newcomer had acted. She turned the event over in her head as she stomped back to her room. She could tell Katarina wasn't going to harm her before Katarina herself could, not likely, but she would hardly be surprised given where she was, or she was totally not afraid to die. She wracked her brain again. Her hand fell on the nicked throwing knife in her belt and she felt the anger flare up in her chest. She put her other hand on her face, feeling the long, thin scar with her fingertips. She noted how it stopped at her eye, then resumed at her cheek this woman was careful not put her eye out. She touched the small gap in her eyebrow that it left. She had refused medical treatment for it that day. It was a reminder of what happened when she failed. She had failed just now, as the woman had again made her look like a fool. She reached the Noxian doors, but they opened before her fingers touched them. She halted. There, in her way, stood the absolute last person on the planet she wanted to see. He swung to doors wide open with ease.

"My lady... Welcome to the Hall of Draven!" The man bowed so low his hanging mustache touched his boots. He motioned with his hand, twirling his fingers to add to the effect. Katarina felt her boot collide with the man's stomach before she could stop herself. He grunted and brought his hands to cover his gut. Katarina pushed aside him, making him stumble slightly and walked as quickly as she could without breaking into a run back to her room.

"Don't worry," came a rasping voice from behind her. "All the ladies want to _kick it_ with Draven!" It took all of her willpower to stop herself from impaling the man. She couldn't remember the last time she had been this angry. Her throat was beginning to hurt as she reached her door. Practically kicking it open, she rushed inside. She grabbed the nearest object to her- a half-sized mirror she was too lazy to hang, so it simply lay against her wall- and hurled it with a scream. It left her room through open door and shattered against the other wall with a crash. She was breathing hard, her hands embedded in her crimson hair, pulling hard enough for her body to protest in pain. Tears began to stream down her face, the wetness on her cheeks making her even angrier. She screamed again, pulling her cutlass from her hip and hurling the sheathed weapon as hard as she could at the broken mirror. It missed, striking the wall and clattering to the ground. More tears streamed down her cheeks. She stood there in silence, her hands in her hair. Her lip began trembling. She bit down hard to still it. She couldn't let herself cry. Crying was something Demacians, the weak, and the dying did. She was working herself up. She needed to kill something, someone. It didn't matter who anymore.

"Katarina?" A voice came from her doorway, laden with worry. It was Summoner Beyal, a shorter, stocky man in his late teens with short hair. He was one of the few summoners Katarina tolerated. He was amusing and a very good pilot with her. They had shared meals in the past, though nothing of the sort recently.

He knocked on her open door before stepping over broken glass into her doorway. She surrendered, pulling her head back by her hair, screaming again. _I must look pathetic,_ she thought to herself. Katarina at that moment broke in front of the summoner. She collapsed onto her knees and turned her eyes away from the summoner. He flinched and checked to see if anyone else was nearby, knowing that approaching her might be life threatening. He knew her well enough to know that offering help might make her even angrier, but she had spiraled from a composed and trained killer to an absolute wreck in a matter of minutes. He backed up, not turning his back on her. Katarina heard a scraping and looked up. Her vision was blurry. Beyal was picking up the broken glass and placing it in the mirror's frame. He picked up the cutlass and slid the mirror's frame back into her room with his foot. Entering calmly, her walked the curve and her wall and placed the weapon on her side table and turned to leave.

"I won't tell anyone. If I do you can skin me." He smiled and closed the door. Katarina stared at the door for a long time. The tears had stopped, but she tasted blood.

 _Blood..._ she thought, letting go of her lip with her teeth, so more of it leaked into her mouth. She honestly couldn't tell which had made her angrier. She did know however, exactly what would make her feel better. She reached for cutlass and put it on her lap, pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and gripping her elbows. She stared straight forward and waited.


	3. 1:3 Welcome to Summoner's Rift

**A/N: I've wanted to make an effort of showing Celene's more unstable side.**

Welcome to Summoner's Rift

1:3

 _From childhood's hour I have not been_

 _As others were; I have not seen_

 _As others saw; I could not bring_

 _My passions from a common spring._

 _From the same source I have not taken_

 _My sorrow; I could not awaken_

 _My heart to joy at the same tone;_

 _And all I loved, I loved alone._

 _Then- in my childhood, in the dawn_

 _Of a most stormy life- was drawn_

 _From every depth of good and ill_

 _The mystery which binds me still:_

 _From the torrent, or the fountain,_

 _From the red cliff of the mountain,_

 _From the sun that round me rolled_

 _In its autumn tint of gold,_

 _From the lightning in the sky_

 _As it passed me flying by,_

 _From the thunder and the storm,_

 _And the cloud that took the form_

 _(When the rest of Heaven was blue)_

 _Of a demon in my view._

 _-Edgar Allan Poe_

Celene had excused herself early. She wasn't very hungry after her encounter with Lux, much to her surprise. Today was turning out to be a very emotional, very interesting day. She lay upside-down on her bed with her bare feet resting on her pillow, and her head hanging upside down over the foot of the bed. Celene noted that her hair wasn't long enough to brush against the floor. Storing the useless information in the back of her mind to likely be forgotten later, she sat up and began playing idly with the blue strands that protruded from her fingertips. Celene twisted the tendrils into a pair of stick figures. The figures danced an old Ionian dance she remembered. They took each other's hands, placing their toes against each other's so the hands of the other was all that prevented them from falling. Celene watched the figures. They stepped over each other's feet and spun again, one twirled the other. Celene's attention snapped to her door. Someone was standing outside, their feet casting a shadow under the door.

"Come in," Celene spoke up idly, not waiting for a knock. There was a pause. The figure began to turn away from the door. Celene flicked her wrist. The dancer's partner vanished mid-spin as a line of blue shot itself towards the door. The strand wrapped around the knob, pulling the door open with more force than she intended. There, halfway out of the door frame, stood a nervous-looking Lux.

"Ohhh." Celene felt herself purse her lips and whistle a single long note. The mage didn't wait; she quickly stepped inside Celene's room and slammed the door with a snap of her wrist. She took a deep breath. Her smile was strained.

"I am," she paused, "sorry for how I acted. I shouldn't have said such things." The mage bowed and turned to leave. Celene inhaled and disappeared, reappearing with her hand pressed against her door frame, preventing her exit. Lux jumped in surprise with a small squeak. Celene eyed her.

"What you said to me was true. I know what I am; saying anything else would be foolish. It seems ridiculous to rush to me and apologize over." Lux averted her eyes for a moment. The girl clearly wasn't comfortable. There was an awkward silence. The girl wouldn't let her go until she got an explanation.

"My parents ordered me to 'make amends'. They don't want the Crownguard name to be associated with hostility," Lux said.

"That's hilarious and also pretty fucked up. They want you to say you're sorry after what I did?" Celene smirked at her, the girl visibly tensed. Celene let go of the door, she took a pair of long strides towards her bed and jumped. Her back landed on the bedspread. She resumed, conducting a dance of blue light, the glow emitted lit the room very slightly. Lux watched for a moment, before she pulled the door open.

"You know, you're more complicated than you try and make yourself look," Celene said, her eyes not leaving the display in her hands. "I should really be apologizing; well -more. I try to save what I did for people that deserve it, but somehow it always ends up getting used anyways." The Mage paused. "Are your parents upset with you?" Lux's smile faded. She knew her relationship with her parents wasn't the best. She did try to please them, however, deep down she wanted them to be proud of her.

"I wouldn't say upset- they were expecting me to win. I think they might have been if the battle didn't end the way it did." The mage looked down at her feet, her steel boots shining softly in the blue glow.

"Instead, they claim your behavior embarrassed them and sent you here to try and right it," Celene finished for her. She locked eyes with the mage, getting to her feet. She advanced on Lux. Lux gripped the door frame slightly. "It's interesting that you're more scared of them then me." Celene ducked under her arm. "Well, let's go meet them," Celene said. Lux turned at the words and grabbed the hood of her cloak.

"W-wait a second." The words were hurried. The monster looked over her shoulder.

"You know," Celene said with a smirk, "I've been lying as long as I've been alive, I feel you deserve a bit of honesty." Celene's expression become more serious. "I hold no love for anything- I am no exception. That is why your words stung. Because I want to be something I'm not. Now, let's go have a chat with your parents." Celene grabbed Lux by the wrist and pulled her. She resisted, causing the monster to pause. Celene glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. Lux sighed and surrendered.

 _Maybe it won't look as bad if they see she dragged me,_ she thought, though she didn't want to spend any more time with her parents, but this woman was very insistent. Celene knew she was delving deep into Lux's personal life. Her entire reasoning was to find out why the girl was so uncomfortable. She pressed her shoulder against the heavy oak door, pushing it open and sliding through, Lux in tow. Summoners from the bottom of the stares looked at them oddly, as Celene and Lux emerged from the hall, only to turn and enter the Demacian one.

Inside, the halls looked the same aside from the increase in numbers of flags. Celene scanned. Lux was struggling slightly, but she ignored her. Her eyes fell on her target- a door marked Luxanna. She wrapped her fingers around the knob and twisted. The door swung open and Celene paused. The room was devoid of Demacians, but littered with books, items of clothing both unmentionable and normal, most of it either white or pink. Her bed was unmade and the blanket discarded on the floor. There was an upturned hat stand in the corner, and the scent of cherries wafted out of the room. Celene looked over her shoulder at a bright red Lux with a wide smirk before she closed the door and turned. Dragging the mage behind her, she searched for Garen's room. Lux pulled at her wrist trying to get free.

"They have their own room," she finally spoke. Celene stopped, loosening her grip on the mage's wrist. She was actually expecting them to, though Lux was unlikely to tell her where without some motivation. Celene had no code she had to keep, nothing to hide. Lux, on the other hand, was a teenage girl with parental issues that had to stand in a spotlight and represent an idea. Simple embarrassment would do just fine.

"Where are there rooms?" Celene asked, releasing the mage. Lux's eyes flicked to her door, then back to her _captor_ gauging whether or not she could reach it. Celene smirked. Half of her wanted the mage to run.

"You don't want me to talk to them?" Celene leaned in slightly and asked. Lux slowly shook her head. Celene's smile grew. "Why not?" Lux knew she was backed into a corner. There was no escaping the question. Her eyes snapped to her door again. She pushed the idea, knowing that if she ran, Celene would either teleport into her room after her and drag her out, or just leave and knock on every door in the hall, until she found what she wanted.

"They don't hold a high opinion of you," she continued. She looked up and down the hall, making sure nobody was there.

"Shocker -And why is that?" Lux groaned and pulled her hair. She grabbed Celene by her hood, pulling her into her room and slammed the door. Lux exhaled softly, her image safe from spying eyes. "Why don't they hold a high opinion of me, Luxanna?" She spoke in an authoritarian manner.

"Please don't use my full name. If you're going to probe information out of me, at least treat me like an adult." Lux had her back to Celene, looking out her window. Celene's smirk softened into a small smile. Lux began to kick clothing out of Celene's line of sight. She was doing it as if hoping the monster wouldn't notice. The girl's odd mannerisms admittedly proved very distracting.

"If you're so embarrassed by it, why don't you just clean it?" Celene asked, her attention turning away from her goal towards the mage's behavior. "You act like I've never seen a bra before," Celene teased, lifting the white lacy object from the top of Lux's bookshelf. Lux whirled around her expression a mixture of embarrassment and frustration.

"Because I have a reputation I'm supposed to be keeping!" Lux yelled, snatching the item from Celene's hand. Celene took a step backwards. "You are the most insufferable human being I have ever met, diving into other's lives without a care in the world. People are entitled to their own fucking interests." The mage advanced a step. Celene understood- the room was messy out of rebelliousness. "You don't understand what it's like, I'm a fucking object! I can't do anything without someone questioning whether or not it's right for Demacia!" She spat the name out as if it were a bug she swallowed by mistake. "I can't eat certain food, study foreign culture, talk to boys, and learn to dance. Smile, smile, smile." Lux stomped her foot. "The whole reason I'm in this fucking place is so I can represent some idea. I don't want to be trapped here, fighting is painful, dying is painful" Lux throw her arms up.

Advancing another step, she was within arm's length of Celene now. "And then you show up, you rip down everything because you're bored. You jump onto my life like it's a fucking swimming pool and make a mess of everything." Celene felt her eyes narrow in annoyance, the violent side of her sparking in her chest. Lux's eyes widened, realizing what she had said. She sighed and lowered her head. Celene took a step forward after a calming deep breath and put her arms around Lux's shoulders, reaching up slightly to do so. The mage sniffed slightly, returning the hug. "You're the only one that knows..." Lux muttered.

"You'll have to kill me, then," Celene joked softly. Lux snorted at the joke, snuffling again. "I wasn't expecting to make such a splash; I show up and people's lives explode all around me."

"That's because you're extremely nosy," Lux commented, releasing her arms from Celene. "But I bet, given what you are, it pays to be nosy, doesn't it?" Celene was unsure whether that was a joke or a jab. She felt a bit guilty for invading the girl's privacy, but she ignored it now.

"What did they say to you?" Celene looked Lux square in the eyes and asked. She wondered if this justified cracking skulls or not. She mused at the idea of strangling the male Crownguard with his fuzzy white scarf, remembering why she and Katarina were so alike. Lux didn't like the question. She sniffed again and looked away.

"They said I was a failure- not because I lost, but because I curled up like a child and cried. 'How can you be a symbol if you snivel at death like a coward?' She stomped her foot. "They don't understand what that felt like! It was like I was being raped. I've already been through that shit, and I don't need more of that in my life." She was yelling again, her voice stilled, remember she was talking to the person that had put her through the experience in the first place. Celene stared at her blankly in shock. She blinked, suppressing the shame in her stomach that urged her to slam her head in Lux's door.

"I'm sorry, I can't say anything, besides I feel horrible," Celene said. Lux looked at her, her face stiff.

"I'm not angry at you, but I hope I can trust you. No one knows about…well a lot about what I've told you," Lux said stiffly. "I don't understand how you did it... You cracked me like an egg. I've been tortured by my own men during training; I was tortured when I was thirteen and didn't say a word. But then you stroll along, sticking your head in my life like some kind of snooping ostrich and I break down." She put her face in her white silken gloved hands.

"Lux..." Celene slide her hands inside her cloak. "I am extremely good at what I do. I've had a long time to practice. When somebody says immortality, people don't really comprehend how _long_ that is. I have met people _much_ worse than you in similar situations. On top of that, I'm basically a walking pile of secrets told to me by others." Lux looked up at her. Celene looked at her hands.

"You know people squander their lives seeking what you have," Lux said, not stopping to think about changing the subject. Celene shifted her eyes uncomfortably away from Lux.

"I have no doubt I will see the day when everybody is like me and I'm no longer special, but when you don't die, that doesn't mean you don't value time. The faces, the memories, you forgot those you love, what you've fought for, who you are; It all eventually melts away. Everything is temporary, so in that, you can trust me. What I've seen here will float away before anyone finds out," Celene finished.

"Jeez, you're such a nihilist," Lux muttered, her hands resting on her hips. The sound of heavy armored footsteps outside leaked through the door, and Celene snapped her attention behind her.

"It's Garen," Lux whispered, her face lit up in worry of getting caught. Celene nodded; she wanted to help. Right now, all she could do is not exist- that would do. She disappeared in a flash of blue light, and reappeared in Lux's bathroom. There was a heavy metallic rap on the door. Lux opened it. Garen stood taller than her doorway. His eyes narrowed, noting her eyes were swollen, as if she was crying. His face was as sympathetic as his hard features would allow.

"I told her," Lux muttered.

"And?" Garen knelt down, his armored knee making a loud thunk as it touched the floor.

"Well… -She accepted the apology if that's what you mean. She's terrifying, but she means no harm." Celene felt herself frown- why did being called terrifying bother her? "And what of mother and father?" Lux asked.

"They are departing tomorrow." Garen looked behind him, making sure no one was there. "I'm sure I'm as thankful as you are." Lux thrust herself forward and hugged him. He was as sharp as a brick, a soldier, a massive ham, but he was also her brother, Lux thought as the hard armor she remembered from when she was a child pressed against her face. Garen put a gauntleted hand around her shoulders. "I must leave, Luxanna, the summoners say the match will be starting soon. Don't worry I'll keep an eye on the little horror." He stood and turned to leave. "Today, we represent nothing, cheer for me Luxanna." The door closed. Garen sighed and began to march back to his quarters.

Celene poked her head out of Lux's bathroom. "You're rather quick to be sneaky, you know. You ever hide any boys in here?" Lux jumped slightly, realizing that Celene was still in her room. She turned a shade of cherry red, her eyes widening.

"Never! You're so nosy." She crossed her arms at her chest. Celene did the same but paired a smirk and a raised eyebrow. The blush intensified. "Okay... Yes."

"Does this still happen?" Celene knew she was going too far, but didn't care. Lux was trying to be too damn pure for her to leave alone. She didn't want to answer, averting her eyes.

"Yes~" A tiny smile crossed the Demacian's lips. "He's a summoner, so we could set... Things up without actually talking," Lux admitted shyly. Celene whistled in scandalous approval, earning herself a red-faced glare. "Get out of my room, you're so nosy!" Lux squeaked, a soft hint of humor sat in her voice this time. Celene smiled. Lux was full of surprises, not a zealot at all, like Celene had first thought.

" _Celene, its Marten. The preparations have been made, your practice match is about to begin. Do you have all the equipment you need with you?"_ Celene smirked.

"Preparations?" she asked teasingly. Lux looked at her confused. Celene raised a hand to say _wait_ so the summoner couldn't tell.

" _Yes, Preparations. We figured out a way to sort or issues with who's body you're in during matches; you little gremlin._ _Well, I'm going to transport you to your chamber to save you some walking."_ A familiar blue ring lit up around her feet as the connection was severed. Celene inhaled through her nose, her chest starting to burn. She pulled her cloak around herself as the runes wrote themselves on Lux's messy floor. The monster disappeared in a flash, leaving Lux alone. She flopped back on her bed and sighed. Her parents would expect to report to them.

"Fuck them," she said aloud, hopping to her feet. She stuck her paper smile on her face and pushed her door open, leaving for the dining hall. She had a monster to watch and brother to cheer for.

Celene hit the floor of the summoning chamber like a rock, her balance standing strong. Marten threw his arms out in excitement at her arrival.

"Celene, it's good to see you," he said cheerfully. Celene made a note of Marten's interesting change of mood. "I'd like you to meet your team." He gestured to the group of four figures to her left, all looking at the cloaked Ionian. She recognized them all. The large bull from yesterday, flanked by a small purple-clad woman with a tall hat. The woman smiled nicely, readjusting the position of the long rifle slung on her back. The bull grunted and bowed low. He raised himself, taking a single step towards her. With his great size, he closed the distance as he towered over her. He knelt down.

"I am Alistar," he boomed, "the Minotaur. It is my job to protect you and your friends from harm." He stuck his hand out to shake Celene's. She gripped his index finger and shook. He stood tall again, stepping back into place. Celene's eyes turned to the woman in purple, who had the eyes of a cop. The Ionian decided not to make her walk, instead taking the six steps needed to reach her.

"I am Celene. The lazy old man has yet to give me my title." She smirked at him.

"Dig yourself deeper, young lady," came Marten from behind her. Celene extended her hand through her cloak, and the woman in purple shook it.

"I am Caitlyn, the Sheriff of Piltover." Celene's smirk grow as the woman crushed her fingers. She attempted to return the gesture, but lacked the strength to do so.

"That's not too nice," Celene teased. Caitlyn let a tiny smile leak through to her face.

"Just making sure you wouldn't bite, quite a nasty bit of work you did on Luxanna. You should have seen her father's face." Celene looked at her sideways, a stab of guilt pushing into the back of her mind as she turned to the remaining two champions. Garen, whom she had just narrowly avoided. He was rigid, eyes forward at attention, and Riven whom was sitting against one of the room's circular walls, away from the others. Celene nodded at Caitlyn and passed, kneeling down in front of the Exile. Riven sat with her eyes closed. Her mind was elsewhere. Celene leaned in.

"I hope my display didn't scare you," she teased. Riven didn't move.

"As if you could scare me," she almost sounded offended. Celene frowned a bit at the tone. The frown was thrown into the abyss as a tiny smirk revealed itself on Riven's lips.

"You excited?" Celene asked, already knowing the answer.

"Nervous," Riven stated stoically.

"If you're done exchanging pleasantries, let's get to the fun part," Marten said, rubbing his hands together. "We summoners will be here to offer you advice, our spells, and information about enemy positions." He took a breath. "Introduce yourselves, summoners, if you please." Hoods were pulled back. Celene recognized none of the faces.

"I am Summoner Jura," said a tall, skinny man with a scraggly, unkempt beard and long hair tied back into a ponytail. He nodded at Garen, the Might of Demacia, who returned the nod.

"I am High Summoner Werhan," said a chubby man with long, blond hair. He passed Celene, heading for Alistar. She wrinkled her nose, noting that the man smelled faintly of fish.

"I am Summoner Wiles. Caitlyn, if you please?" The man was tall, clearly from Piltover. "You ready for your tower diving lesson, my lady?" Caitlyn's eyes widened slightly, glaring. Alistar snorted loudly behind her at the idea. She turned to him, annoyed, looking at him with cold, scathing eyes.

"Well, what kind of support are you? Cow?" Alistar shrugged and closed his eyes.

"Moo?" he replied. Celene, Wiles, and Werhan burst out laughing.

"I am Summoner Kathrine," a woman introduced herself. She was small, but had a few inches on Celene, built on the wide side, with a round face. She descended from the platform in the room's center, kneeling down in front of Riven.

"Are you ready?" she asked considerately. The amber eyes snapped open. Riven nodded her head, her eyes shifting to Celene. The gaze reminded her of the spell Lux put a hole in her tower with. Riven pulled herself to her feet as the summoners assembled themselves in a ring on the platform facing inward, the champions passed them with their backs to each other, facing their summoners. Celene copied them, facing Marten. Orbs of crystal floated from the ceiling and each summoner placed their hands on one and began to chant. Lightning arced from the orb to the summoners' hands. Marten's finished first, the orb hovering in front him, glowing blue. An image of the ring could be seen in the orb, showing Celene and the ring of the champions. She looked up, trying to locate its source, her image copied her in real time. Marten flicked his fingers, panning the Image around the room before setting it back on her. Blue rings appeared around their feet, the runes righting themselves out.

"Hey, Beyal is on the other team, you know," said Werhan to Wiles. Wiles nodded.

"Thank fuck we aren't actually doing any piloting today," Wiles replied. The way they spoke made Celene raise her eyebrow.

"I know, his Kat is such a pain. A week ago, he and I rolled this Zaun team, he quadra'ed," Werhan spoke again. Celene was confused but intrigued, they were using slang and shortenings she hadn't heard before.

"Nice, who were you piloting?"

"Vayne."

"Oh. I didn't know you pilo-" They were cut off as the world vanished into black. Celene was surprised to see the others hovering beside her in nothing, Alistar and Caitlyn to her left, Garen and Riven to her right. Riven was performing a slow, sweeping motion with her sword. Garen drew his long, adorned broadsword and pointed it forward. Celene followed it. The enemy team was floating about sixty feet from them.

The shirtless man from yesterday lifted a sword longer than he was tall and pointed it at the Might of Demacia. The white-haired woman that was next to him was again in a sitting position with a book in her face. A bow made of what looked like ice sat on her lap. In the middle, staring hard at Celene, was an insanely pissed-off looking Katarina. She was curled with her knees at her chest, glaring up at her. To her right was Sona, hovering there, her dress billowing as she plucked at a strange instrument in front of her. Celene noted that Sona wasn't wearing shoes. The last champion she didn't recognize- a woman wearing an Ionian ninja's tunic sitting cross-legged in nothing. A pair of kamas hung from the sash that tied her waist. Her mouth was covered by a green mask. Her eyes locked on Celene, running over her cloak-hidden figure in an almost ruthless examination, lifting any thread of information possible about this new enemy. Celene put her index finger under her eye and pulled downward, sticking her tongue out at the ninja. The ninja blinked once, leaning her head ever so slightly back, then blinking again. The rush of air could be heard. Over a few seconds, the rush turned to a scream and the ground slammed into their feet.

Lux had reached the dining hall. Turning into the doorway, she saw a small ring of bystanders had gathered around the large orb in the center of the room. The vendors had left their posts and pulled up chairs. Lux grabbed a chair from the nearest table and slid it up to the orb.

"Welcome to Summoner's Rift!" the all too familiar announcer echoed through the dining hall. The image focused in on each of the champion's faces in turn. Some of the summoners had taken to voicing over the broadcast matches. The image first snapped to Celene,as she was new, and she got the honor. The newcomer panned her head around, taking in the new arena. She nodded and placed her hand on the shopkeeper's table.

"She's in for a challenge today. Her lane partner is none other than the sadistic assassin Katarina, the Sinister Blade." Katarina sat motionless on the summoner platform. She opened her eyes and stood. She placed her hand on the shopkeeper's stall. There was a pause. She retracted her hand. Gripping the cutlasses at her hips, she drew both weapons, adding a spin to the motion so the weapons twirled in her hands before coming to rest in her grip. She had an excited grin on her face as she took off down the center lane of Summoner's Rift.

Lux blinked- Katarina looked even more excited than normal. _Maybe it was because of fresh meat?_ Lux thought. The image snapped to bottom lane, where Alistar had lifted Caitlyn onto his shoulder. She grabbed his horn with one hand, her rifle in the other, and marched off towards lane. It was interesting. This kind of interaction simply didn't happen in normal matches. Lux felt her smile return as the image snapped to her brother Garen. He ran towards his lane as fast as his armor would allow, sword drawn. A voice came from behind Lux, completely stoic.

"Luxanna, have you seen Akali?" It was Shen. Lux turned.

"No, I haven't." Just then she flicked up on screen, she sat cross legged at the base of the top tower, her kamas in her sash. Shen sat next to Lux. She glanced at him. He wore his mask like always, making seeing his face impossible. It was rare he exposed himself to her or anybody for more than moments at a time.

"I advised her against answering the summons," Shen said stoically, watching the orb. Riven flashed on screen, standing outside the empty Cinderhulk camp. She was motionless, her sword level with her hip as Alistar and Caitlyn arrived. Caitlyn slid down Alistar's back and took aim at where Riven had her eyes locked.

"Minions have spawned!" the announcer boomed. The Cinderhulk clawed it away into the opening through the tree behind it. There was a gunshot, and the match was off. Riven lunged forward, her stone sword plunging into the distracted creature.

Celene shifted her eyes to her right as a gunshot cracked a short distance away. Her back rested against her tower. Her eyes shifting back to the assassin Katarina, she paced back and forth just outside of Celene's tower range like a tiger. Her weapons drawn, gleaming in the midday sun. Celene smirked. _So impatient,_ she thought, closing her eyes and leaning her head back on the tower. She let the sun bathe her face. The sound of shifting clothing caused her eyes to drift open, a line of minions passing her. She stood straight, her arms leaving her brown cloak as she stretched them over her head.

"Nmmggg," the sound left her lips as Celene pulled her thin arms behind her head. Katarina was still staring at her. She backed off, allowing her own minions to in front. The waves began to fight. Celene stepped to her tower's range, feeling the blue tendrils leave her fingers under her cloak. One of Katarina's minions was getting ganged up on by hers. She spied it, her arm leaving her cloak, spearing it just like she had done before her battle with Lux.

" _Good. Remember I get gold for these, more gold, more items, more power, victory,"_ Marten said. Celene nodded, impaling another.

Shen tilted his head- the nature of her attack was strange. He leaned in slightly, watching intently now. Lux glanced at him. The crowd had grown to more than twenty.

Celene was beginning to understand the ebb and flow of how minion waves worked; if she killed them too fast, her line would push and make it harder for her to get more. Katarina was being surprisingly conservative. She placed herself just out of Celene's range, took a swipe at a minion, and then backed off. The line had her nearly to her tower. Celene stood idly in the middle of the lane, watching the thick reeds at her flank more than the assassin in front of her, ready to disappear at the slightest hint of an attack from behind. She took a step forward to spear another minion. Katarina disappeared. Before Celene could react, the assassin was on her. A thin blade punched through her shoulder. Celene vanished, reappearing at her tower's range clutching her shoulder. The assassin turned casually. She flicked the blood from her weapon with a leer and twirled it over the top of her hand to adjust her grip. Celene's eyes narrowed as she clutched to wound. She was surprised Katarina's face was even capable of such a smug expression but the wound was already beginning to knit itself back together. Celene noted the stopping of blood. The League's faster regeneration coming in handy.

"Ouch," Celene muttered under her breath. The heat in her chest growing. The corner of her mouth twitched before Celene composed herself and straightened up. Katarina could have easily done lethal damage if she had wished. Celene met eyes with her. The Assassin was letting her know she was playing, much the same way Celene had done to Lux earlier in the day.

 _She's been waiting to do that,_ Celene noted mentally as she took a deep breath and composed herself.

" _Don't worry about it,"_ Marten said. " _If you feel like you're in trouble, drink on the potions hanging from your belt."_ The newcomer felt the oddly shaped glass bottles with her hand, remembering them clinking together amusingly as she jogged into lane. She looked at the assassin, stepping from her tower's protective range as Katarina's minion line advanced towards her. She began to spear the wounded minions once again. The assassin paced just outside of her range. Her stance was odd. Katarina rested her weight on her back foot, her cutlasses held back handed; not normally how you would hold that type of weapon, but it seemed to be working. She held her left arm straight, her left side facing Celene. Her right hand was tucked up by her chin, the weapon held the conventional way. The stance made Celene think of her playing a violin. A small smile split her lips at the idea.

Shen nodded in approval. His companion, Akali, was doing well. Lux, on the other hand was frowning. Garen was having a hard time keeping up with the ninja. She darted in, took a few swings, then threw a smoke bomb and vanished before Garen could really fight back. His armor had kept him safe through most of the engagements. He took a step towards a minion, raising his broadsword to strike. Akali burst from the bush at blinding speed. Garen managed to awkwardly curve the downward swing towards the assaulting Akali. Stepping out of the way as if avoiding a door she had just opened, she darted inside his guard. Her kama struck him in the side- the heavy Demacian battle armor was doing its job as he just winced from the blow. He brought the broadsword back towards the ninja, who ducked, getting inside for another hit. She aimed high at his neck. Garen shielded his face with a gauntleted hand. He caught the weapon by the blade. The ninja abandoned it- a blast of smoke and she was gone.

"You depend too much on that armor, Demacian," a level voice came from the smoke. Garen looked around himself. He held his sword closer to himself then he normally would, her stolen weapon gripped tightly in his off hand.

"And you depend too much on the element of surprise," he shouted back into the smoke. It slowly cleared. The ninja knew he was expecting her and waited.

" _Celene, Riven is coming, get ready,"_ Marten piped up. Celene and Katarina had been dancing around each other, farming for the last five minutes. The newcomer wasn't stupid and didn't make the same mistake as before. Riven was coming- Celene felt her chest burning. The assassin was being far too conservative to make killing her easy. She could simply pop away to the safety of her tower.

" _Now!"_ She could imagine him leaning in towards the orb as she advanced. She was now in the middle of the lane. Katarina disappeared again. Celene was waiting for her to, and vanished as well. A cutlass narrowly missed impaling her as she reappeared a few feet behind where she had been. Katarina snuck a glance over her shoulder, her eyes widening as she realized she had been tricked. Celene didn't waste the opportunity. Tendrils of blue exploded from under her brown cloak, advancing quickly on the redhead. Katarina had managed to turn around. She took a step back, swiping at the blue with her sword before deciding to turn again and run. The newcomer appeared in front of her in a blue flash. Katarina swung at her head, the weapon meeting a wall of blue strands. Encircling the weapon, they snaked their way up to the assassin's hand. The sharp tips plunged into her flesh. She cried out. There was a sound from behind her- sandaled footsteps. She looked over her shoulder, trying to gather the energy to shunpo away. Riven was within feet of her. Her focused gaze burned into the assassin like a brand.

"Fuck!" Katarina swore aloud, knowing she was in a lot of trouble, but she was forced to fight. She ripped her hand free of Celene, the tendrils goring her flesh, taking the cutlass with them as the assassin turned.

"Fuck is right," Celene said calmly.

Riven was in the air now, fully intent on splitting Katarina in two. She sidestepped the blow, the stone sword passing inches in front of her face. Riven began to pivot her upper body the second the weapon missed, now facing the assassin. Her heavy sword lagging behind her as she swung it at Katarina's head. The assassin leaned back to avoid the blow again. The attack sailed in front of her face, taking nearly two feet worth of red hair with it. Katarina righted herself before Riven could recover from the swing. Her mangled left hand pressed itself against the back of the Exile's right arm, pinning the blade out of Katarina's way as she twisted inside Riven's guard, her remaining cutlass heading for the Exile's neck. Celene appeared in the way. Her small, thin fingers wrapping around the assassin's hand, her other hand closed around her neck. Hundreds of blue strands left her cloak.

"BOO!" Celene shouted with a sadistic grin. Katarina had absolutely no intention of being near Celene. Drawing a sharp breath, she vanished, appearing already in full sprint behind the pair. Riven took off after her. Katarina stole a glance over her shoulder; Riven was gaining ground with surprising speed. She would be reached before the safety of her tower. Katarina cursed internally and dug her cleated boots into the mud. Spinning, she sent a wave of throwing knives at Riven. The Exile managed to put her body through a gap in the spacing of the projectiles. She ducked low, thrusting her sword towards the assassin. Katarina knocked the attack aside. Blasts of green exploded from Riven's sword as the assassin stumbled to her side. She stabilized in time to put her cutlass in between herself and the Exile. There was a clang of metal against stone.

Katarina was swatted right off her feet. She hit the ground, rolling back onto her feet as Riven sank into a much faster version of the combo she practiced so much. Broken Wings, the exile had named it. She spun into the second swing, this time coming from Katarina's left. The assassin was unable to adjust as the blade barely missed her exposed stomach, leaving a thin red scratch. Riven recycled the movement as the heavy weapon swung its way behind her. She spun with the swing, redirecting the energy upward as she had done so many times before. She was facing the assassin again, her sword in the peak of its arc above her head. Katarina had no time to avoid it. She shielded herself with her remaining cutlass, but the combination of gravity, kinetic energy, and Riven's strength proved too much. The blades met with another clang, Katarina's knees buckling as the cutlass snapped neatly in two. The stone sword continued downward without pause and struck Katarina's collar bone. Her leather armor provided no protection as the bone split. The blade bit nearly a foot downward before stopping.

"Gotcha," Riven muttered. Katarina blinked, dazed. She looked down and blinked again. Her arms hung limply at her sides. Celene whistled to herself, leaning arms crossed against the base of her tower. Strands of blue waved slowly around her thin form. Katarina's hands raised, her fingers wrapping around the stone blade embedded in her.

"Deserting traitor," Katarina choked out at her, blood seeping into her mouth.

"Bitch," Riven calmly replied. She put a hand on the assassin's shoulder, wriggling her sword loose. Katarina remained still, her body not comprehending the amount of damage it had taken. She was feeling lightheaded, her right side coated in something warm and wet. Riven put her hand between the assassin's breasts and pushed. She was unable to keep her balance and toppled backwards into a spiraled pile.

"First Blood!" The voice rang through the dining hall and clapping rose from the crowd. More people had arrived.

Riven glanced over her shoulder at her remarkably calm teammate. "You talk too much. You need to be focusing on what you're doing," Riven said softly. Celene half-shrugged. Riven wrinkled her nose, deciding arguing with her was pointless. She turned to move towards her Jungle once again.

"Why did Katarina throw those knives?" Lux turned to Shen and asked. The ninja was still. He pondered the question just like he did with everything.

"She wasn't counting on Riven wriggling by them like a snake under a door." Shen remained still. Lux nodded, her blue eyes on the orb. The match progressed roughly fifteen minutes before anything exciting happened again. Considering it was a practice match, there was very little fighting outside of small skirmishes. The score was fifteen to eleven in favor of the purple team.

"You know this… Celene?" Shen asked Lux. The ninja hadn't moved a muscle in the last fifteen minutes

"I do; I was her opponent on the Proving Grounds today," Lux said, watching as the blue team began to gather together.

"How did that go?" Shen looked at her, intrigued. Lux didn't answer. The match had been going nearly thirty minutes, and much to the crowd's disappointment, Celene hadn't shown very much. She didn't appear to be putting forth much effort which was frustrating her team and their summoners. The newcomer didn't have single kill to her name, where as her redheaded competitor had five to hers. Everyone in the crowd knew what was going to happen in the next few minutes; allowing a champion that much more gold than everyone else was bad, no matter which champion it was. Katarina specialized in killing others; she had little ability on the Fields of Justice beyond that. At the moment, she was doing her job perfectly.

Celene crouched low in the reeds, the water up to her knees. Her cloak floated on its surface. She peered through the reeds as Sona drifted towards them, her toes barely touching the still water. She clutched a small, winged totem in one hand, the green crystal at its top glowing softly. Her other hand idly plucked at an instrument that floated along with her. The music was heart-stoppingly beautiful. Celene shook her head, not letting it distract her. She motioned to Alistar and Caitlyn. The bull practically lay in the water to keep his height from giving them away, supporting his weight on his massive fists in an unmoving pushup. Caitlyn sat cross-legged on his back, her rifle fully extended. She used Alistar's horn as a bipod, looking through the arrangement of lenses along the rifle's barrel.

"She wouldn't be alone, this is a practice match," Caitlyn muttered, waiting, her sights trained on the floating musician.

"I agree," Alistar whispered. Celene was impressed how stealthy he was being, given his size. He leaned his head down farther, his horn sliding towards the end of Caitlyn's barrel. His door knocker-sized nose ring dipped into the still water.

"Steady, you big cow," Caitlyn said quietly. Alistar smirked, holding as still as he could. Riven moved up next to Celene. Looking behind her, she pursed her lips and placed her index finger over them. The enemy team emerged from the reeds that blocked sight of the middle lane, Akali parting them neatly with her kamas. She took a step onto the water, a single ripple expanding out from where her foot met the surface. She took another, walking on the surface casually.

"Ninjas are bullshit," Alistar spat as quietly as he could. The rest of the hidden blue team snorted. Celene looked over to the Exile next to her, smiling softly at the Minotaur's comment. Garen pointed past Celene's head, a gauntlet-clad finger aimed at the reeds. Katarina hacked her way out of the tall, green wall. She stumbled slightly into the water with a loud splash. Akali spun around, her green eyes meeting the assassin's more vivid ones.

"Could you make any more noise?!" the ninja hissed, a thick Ionian accent present in her voice. Katarina drew herself up to her full height, but Akali towered over her, her position on the water surface giving her an advantage in the height department, as the taller Noxian stood knee deep in water. Caitlyn trained her sights on the assassin's head.

"Fuck you, bitch, do I need to tell your pimp Shen how you've been behaving," Katarina said flatly, crossing her arms at her chest. Akali blinked. Shen had failed to ever explain to her what a pimp was, though she understood the first part of what Katarina had said. She knelt down, leveling her eyes with the assassin, her expression unreadable past her face mask. The thump of approaching steps was heard

Beyond the reeds. Tryndamere burst through, slamming his boots into the water. He neglected to use the path through the reeds Katarina had already created in favor of ramming through with his weight.

"What's going on?" he spoke loud enough for a small echo to reverberate back to him. Katarina felt herself smirk, as Akali narrowed her eyes at the large man.

Sona floated by the patch of river grass that hid the blue team. Deciding it was a good spot for her Baron ward, she cheerfully turned and parted the reeds with her hand, using the hand holding the ward to widen the part. She pushed in a bit farther and came face to face with the Might of Demacia.

Sona opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came. Sona, remembering she was mute, floated backwards away from the bush. She dropped her ward with a small splash and pointed frantically at the bush. Her team wasn't looking; Akali and Katarina were both glaring at the shirtless man as Ashe stepped through the gap in the reeds. Sona looked back at the bush nervously. Smirking at her, Garen put his finger to his lips and withdrew from sight. She waved her arms over her head. Ashe spotted the flailing musician and pointed. Sona sighed again and pointed to the bush. The purple team locked their eyes on the patch of grass.

"Enemies?" Akali asked the musician. Sona nodded her head frantically, floating quickly towards her team. Akali took a step, her body passing in front of Katarina. A muzzle flash came from the reeds with a loud crack. The bullet struck the ninja in the arm, spraying Katarina in blood. Katarina blinked the flecks of red from her eyes, barely comprehending how lucky she was before her fight or flight kicked in. Akali winced, pushing the pain out of her mind as she threw a smoke bomb into the water. It exploded into a gray cloud. She put her hand on Katarina's head, forcing her down into the water as more gunshots left the bush. The assassin pushed the ninja off of her, looking up at her with a murderous expression.

"Fuck, she blocked my shot," Caitlyn shouted, jumping from Alistar's back. She pulled the trigger several more times. A glint came from the cloud. An icy blue arrow left the smoke, aimed at Caitlyn's muzzle flash. Alistar saw it, thrusting his arm in front of Caitlyn. The arrow hit him with a thunk and thin layer of ice spread from it.

"Our cover is blown. CHARGE!" Garen exclaimed, bursting from the reeds. He slogged towards the cloud of smoke as quickly as he could. "Demacia!"

"Ugh!" Riven groaned loudly at the reckless soldier, charging out after him. Celene followed, staying behind the large, fast-moving wall of Demacian armored ham. Tryndamere emerged, screaming obscenities, his sword dragging behind him as he charged for the reeds that hid Caitlyn and Alistar. Chaos followed as all but Katarina came running from the smoke. Akali dashed nimbly across the water, weaving and ducking left to right. Her good arm swung at Riven, who ducked. Garen put himself in between Tryndamere and Caitlyn's hiding place. The shirtless man shouted something about the Demacian's mother and swung his sword down at him. Garen intercepted the blow with his sword, deflecting it. He pulled his sword across the man's chest. Tryndamere didn't even flinch, ignoring the fact that he'd been wounded. He screamed at the top of his lungs, swinging his oversized sword again. Garen ducked the blow.

"You're in my fucking way!" Caitlyn shouted from the reed, trying to squeeze a shot past the wall of Demacian armor that filled her sights. Celene materialized next to Akali, a wave of blue erupting from her cloak. Akali dashed between them before either could react, her kama sinking into Garen's armor.

The Might of Demacia flinched as the weapon punched through the chain mail that defended his sides.

 _God damn, she's fast,_ Celene thought to herself as she slid back into the brush. She hadn't seen head nor tail of the redhead. Celene closed her eyes, deciding to focus on disrupting the assassin when she arrived. The choice had little tactical influence. Celene was simply interested in toying with the Katarina.

Riven and Celene were both out of position. The Exile inhaled sharply, her sword pulsing brightly, a flash of green light emitted from it, several stone fragments suspended in the air, the runes glowing bright green. The sword was now longer than Tryndamere's. Her eyes locked on Ashe, holding the weapon no different than she had before. She sprinted, the blade's new tip dragging in the water. Ashe turned her attention to the charging Exile and released the arrow she had just nocked. Riven tucked her head down, making herself as small a target as possible. She shifted her course slightly, the arrow sailing by her ear with a whistle. Riven stumbled from the sudden change in direction, maintaining her speed. Ashe began to look worried. As the gap was being closed, she loosed a second arrow. Riven twisted, too close to avoid it. As it struck her shoulder, her teeth gritted, locking her amber eyes on the now terrified-looking archer. She did what she had done many times before, forcing herself headfirst through the agony that washed over her body. She reached the archer who was awkwardly trying to nock an arrow as the battleground reduced to the size of a phone booth.

Celene stood with her eyes shut, listening. The sounds of battle raged all around her, gunshots from behind her, the clashing of weapons to her front. She heard what she was waiting for, a puff to her right. She snapped her head to the sound, as did everyone. Katarina had appeared. She was standing with one foot on a rock that rose out of the water, sinking into a low spin. Everyone knew what was coming, but no one was close enough to stop it.

The woman became a spinning flurry of red hair and steel, knives flying out of the lotus of death with impressive precision. Alistar put himself in between the woman and Caitlyn, knocking her to the ground. Riven turned her back on the archer, unable to avoid the barrage of throwing knives that slammed into her. She hid behind her sword. Katarina was able to aim the knives between the levitating fragments of stone. Riven fell to her knees, and Garen soon followed, a knife embedded in his throat. Alistar fell to the ground and a massive splash followed. Katarina recovered from her dance, hopping down from the rock and charging towards the now undefended Caitlyn. Celene saw her chance. She materialized above and behind Katarina some forty feet up. Celene felt the excitement in her chest building as she dropped towards her target. The Ionian landed on her shoulders, knocking her to the ground as gunshots erupted from the reeds.

"You fucking nin-" Katarina began, thinking Akali had shoved her down again. Her head turned up to meet a pair of hungry blue eyes and a wicked ear-to-ear grin.

Akali noted the newcomer had knocked Katarina off her feet as she dashed towards the now-fleeing Caitlyn. _Whatever,_ she thought, turning her eyes to her prey.

Celene felt her fingers wrap around the assassin's wrists as she slammed into the water on her back. Katarina knew she was stronger than the girl, it was just a matter of overpowering her. Celene leaned in as Katarina hit the bottom. Tendrils wrapped around her wrists, invasively running up under her sleeves. Celene wanted the assassin; she wanted to give her what she didn't have time to all those years ago. Katarina felt her arms being pinned to her sides as the blue strands encircled her. She sucked in a breath before the water covered her face. She struggled against the strands as bit into her skin. The newcomer that had given Katarina her now-famous scar leaned in.

Their foreheads touched. Katarina pressed her back involuntarily into the riverbed as her personal space was invaded. Celene noticed that her chest was on fire. There was a pause. The assassin wiggled against the blue bindings. Celene savored this for a moment, all manner of sadistic thoughts flying through her head about how to approach Katarina. _Maybe if I romanticized the idea a bit?_ Celene thought to herself

" _Bad fucking idea."_ Marten said.

Celene felt the sting of guilt early this time. She knew it would be much worse after the body was returned. Her experiences from earlier in the morning threatened to shattered her high. She began to wonder why she wanted to hurt this woman so much and that wandering thought destroyed her. Celene diverted it, throwing the guilt into the furnace of her temper.

Katarina had nearly gotten free and she was going to run short on air soon but none of that mattered now. She knew she would regret it but sided with her sadistic side and shoved her feelings out of her lips met. The Noxian froze up, her blood feeling like it turned to ice. Her eyes went wide. Celene didn't break the kiss, she exhaled into the assassin's tight lips and released the fire in her chest. The assassin was in shock; she clenched her teeth behind her lips. Celene's cloak was ripped from her as the tendrils punched their way from her back. The assassin overcame her shock, struggling again. A spark of fear lit in her heart as blue strands emerged from Celene's lips. Parting the assassin's, they forced their way down Katarina's throat, water coming with them. She gagged, her hands coming free as Celene slumped down on top of her. Katarina's hand found the cutlass on her back. Drawing the weapon, she thrust it into the girl, her hand gripping tight as she was forced to swallow. Clenching her eyes shut, she pushed against Celene, kicking at her with her heavy boots. Anything to get away from the assault. Katarina's other hand came free as the binding slide loose to join the mass forcing itself down her throat.

She grabbed at them but the perfectly smooth surface gave her nothing to hold them by as they effortlessly slid through her hands. Unable to get the lavage for a good swing Katarina pulled her boot-knife and attempted to saw and hack at the alien attacker to no effect.

" _Katarina!"_ Beyal screamed in her head. " _Stay calm, we have countermeasures in place for this."_ Katarina couldn't comprehend what he was saying. _"You'll be fi- "His_ voice was cut off as her mind was flooded with some alien presence. Her body began to convulse as the last of the strands disappeared. She involuntarily curled up. Her eyes snapped open as the convulsions stilled. She smiled. Katarina was confused. She hadn't told her lips to do that.

" _Beyal! What the fuck are you doing, you were told not to pilot!"_ She screamed in her head, attempting to sever the link. Nothing changed- there was no link, Katarina realized. Her body had been stolen from her. A wash of shock and horror engulfed her.

This is what Celene had been trying to do all those years ago. _What a cruel, fucked up thing to do._ The assassin wasn't angry, at least not yet; she was simply stunned -in shock of the womans capacity to hurt her. Stalking her through her childhood like a hungry predator, mutilating her when she didn't get her way. Katarina now understood that Celene was telling her she was being saved for later, like a squirrel burying an acorn. Katarina had killed plenty of people; for no reason other than she was told but this was different then ending someone's life. This was taking a life and showing the victim what they will never have again.

Celene was moving, seeking air. Katarina could feel everything, the lack of oxygen and wrists cut and sore from the bindings. Celene and her were the same person now. She recalled that nearly fourteen years before when she had first seen the short Ionian she looked identical to her appearance now; she hadn't aged a day. Celene thrust her new body's head from the water, coughing and spluttering. Celene's old body floated limply in the water next to her, the form stained the water crimson.

The body caused Celene a brief pause as she caught her breath. At that moment Katarina's rage exploded, that body was just like she was now; forced to go through everything Celene chose to do.

A soft footstep from behind her got Celene's attention, and Katarina's by effect.

"Caitlyn managed to escape," Akali said flatly, tossing the net she was holding into the water as the rest of her team arrived. Celene couldn't help but start to laugh, starting low in a chuckle but rising in volume and pitch to a cackling, echoing laugh. Her new voice was well-suited to it. Her new three feet of red hair fell over her shoulders as she straightened all the way up. Akali tensed slightly.

The assassin really didn't care what happened to akali, but something in her heart clicked, started to probe for the tether to her summoner.

"Something is funny, assassin?" The question had a touch of hostility to didn't answer.

" _Beyal! Warn Akali's summoner, tell them to kill me. KILL ME!"_ Katarina screamed in her head. Akali approached as Tryndamere, Ashe, and Sona all leaned in. Akali set her weapons in her sash and placed a hand on the assassin's shoulder. The body was no longer hers, but Katarina felt uncomfortable. She commanded her hand to slap Akali away. There was no response.

"Are you alright, Noxian?" Akali asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

"Peachy~" her tone was unnervingly cheerful, that familiar; thin Ionian accent Celene spoke with ripped through Akali's through. Celene turned her head, cocking it sideways, looking at the ninja. Akali recoiled in shock. The Noxian's eyes were bright blue, a sadistic smile on her face. Akali reached for her weapons. The monstrous Ionian loved that moment of realization the most, she could see Akali's gears turning, computing the scope of the danger in front of her. Celene spun, thrusting the cutlass still in her hand through the ninja's gut.

"Hullggh!" Akali bent forward, her eyes wide in shock. Celene tore the blade loose, twirled it in her hand as the ninja fell with a splash. Katarina's experience with the weapons came in handy; they felt like an extension of her arms rather than something she held in her hand.

"Surprise! ~" she shouted whimsically. The boot-knife Katarina had attempted to free herself with earlier left Celene's new fingers and struck the arrow that had been sailing toward her.

" _Holy fuck…"_ Beyal said over the tether, _"Hooooly fuck that is so overpowered."_

Celene understood why Katarina carried so many sword as she eyed the shocked frost archer a short distance away. Battle was messy and things got lost she noted as the boot knife and arrow landed in the water with an alarmingly casual splash. She popped one of the cutlasses on Katarina's hips from its scabbard and disappeared with a blue flash, reappearing in front of Ashe. The archer had managed to nock an arrow after seeing her former teammate impale Akali. Tendrils of blue exploded from Celene's new back, a wave of pain washing over her as Katarina's nerves retaliated. The archer took a surprised step back, fear plastered across her thin face.

"Double kill!" the announcer boomed over the field. Celene slipped under Ashe's bow, jamming the weapon into her thigh. She cried in pain, flinching. She brought her knee up between the archer's thighs as she tore the blade upwards and ripped it free. Ashe doubled over, dropping her bow she reached desperately for the dagger that hung from her belt. Hundreds of blue needles punched their way through the archer's front. Ashe went limp against the assault of blue. Celene turned her head, her new red hair contrasting the writhing mass of blue strands. A screaming, fast approaching Tryndamere filled her vision.

"Triple Kill!" the announcer boomed again. Lux stared wide-eyed, her mouth ajar. The room was silent aside from the sounds of combat coming from the orb.

Celene stepped to the side, Ashe still hanging from the blue strands. The large sword sailed by her. Celene casually leaned her head backwards and to her left, avoiding a second wild swing from a furious Tryndamere.

" _Stop the match! Now!"_ Katarina screamed over the tether, feeling her hands drive the blade through Tryndamere's throat. The man ignored the wound and swing his blade downward over his head at Katarina.

" _I can't! That's a surrender on our part, look just keep your cool, it's just like another death."_ he said as calmly as he could.

" _NOW!"_ Katarina screamed back at him.

"TRAITOR!" Tryndamere gurgled as the assassin disappeared, his sword sinking into the muddy riverbed. A pair of cutlasses plunged into his back. He looked down to see the weapons punch through his pecs, the guards hitting his back. Blue tendrils snaked around the weapons, working their way through him. He felt his insides get torn to shreds by the blue strands around the blades. Celene felt her new, fuller lips split as she ripped the blue strands outward in all directions, dicing the furious man. Celene blinked as she was covered in a thin layer of red gore.

"Quadra kill," shouted the announcer. Celene stepped down from the ruined Tryndamere like he was a flight of stairs. He wobbled before falling forward into the river. She was breathing hard, covered in blood and sweat. Her face mirrored what you would expect Katarina to make after just performing a similar task. She flicked the tendrils, sending Ashe's limp body into the river with a splash and looked up to lock eyes with a terrified Sona.

The cutlass fell from her hand as her new fingers coiled around one of the silver knives around Katarina's waist. The weapon was drawn with a flick, Celene paused. She noted Katarina's reflection in the polished surface. The thin line of scar tissue down her face. The small chip in the knives side caused Celene more pause. This was the same knife. Celene blinked,

Katarina was not the most socially adapt woman but with Celene wearing her face, the horrified expression she saw in the reflection in the reflection of the knife gave both her and her captor pause. Katarina could see guilt in her own face on the weapons polished mirror surface.

Celene's sadism turned on her. _It doesn't matter why. You should never do this to anybody, you goddamn freak!_ She mentally snapped at herself. Her new eyes turned downward, spotting her reflection in the water. A frowning, red haired woman wearing a thin sheet of blood stared back at her, the blue tendrils drifting in wind with her hair.

Sona didn't waste the opportunity to defend herself. A sour tone left the instrument in her hands as she gritted her teeth. All at once a blast of sound from Sona lifted her off her feet. Celene gritted her teeth. flesh split as if cut by a barrage of invisible daggers as the staccato of shattering ribs held her attention until she struck the water. Katarina lost her focus on the tether and dropped her connection with Beyal. Her body informing her of the catastrophic damage it had taken. Oddly Celene seemed frozen, uncaring. She splashed down in the river and began sinking under the water. Katarina's mind raced, putting name to the damage as she felt it. Water flooding her lungs through numerous punctures, the pressure in her chest cavity had reached equilibrium with the surrounding river; her lungs collapsed under the liquid as a curtain of red occurred her vision. Celene wasn't really aware of what was happening, in fact she hardly noticed. She apathetically stared at the surface of the water, watching it distort the clouds in the sky behind it as her emotions ripped each other apart. Ribbons of red drifted upward from her body like smoke from a chimney. Celene found she simply didn't care.

Sona blinked, exhaling a sigh of relief. She was unsure why the monstrous woman had given her the chance to defend herself.

" _Beyal has informed us that Katarina wishes to surrender."_

After a moment Katarina's body begun to protest the lack of available oxygen. Celene was unable to find the will to move, she simply lay there at the bottom of the shallow river thinking.

" _You know the scariest thing about you Celene is what I can feel over this tether."_ Celene didn't even summon the energy to think a reply. Marten paused. _"Well either way the Enemy team has surrendered and the match is being halted._ _Which gives me a chance to test our new countermeasures; Exciting."_

Celene felt a pull in her mind, like someone had attached a rope to her attention and tugged. It pulled upwards. Celene gasped in her new body as she felt her awareness being ripped forcibly out. She resisted, but it was no use; everything went black as she was ripped free. The black nothingness of the summoning void slammed into her feet and the world reappeared. She was standing once again in limbo having lost nearly a foot and roughly forty pounds. She blinked. Her brown cloak settled around her shoulders.

"I didn't know you could rip me from a body. That's... worrisome," Celene said aloud. She was beginning to win her battle with herself. Her mental state slowly returning to normal. She inhaled the scentless air of the void, enjoying the suspended feeling it gave her.

" _Why do you think people actually listen to the League of Legends? Because we can develop and employ protective enchantments in a few hours; that's why."_ Marten stated proudly. " _Either way."_ Within a minute, she was standing next to Riven in the summoning chamber. Everybody was staring at her wide eyes. She sighed, the guilt surprisingly missing in favor of the icy apathetic grip of depression.

"Dude... That was fucking AMAZING," Werhan said. Celene forced herself to smile.

"Well we're nerfing it." Marten retorted.

"Well no shit." four summoners replied in harmony

The fast approaching sound of heavy boots could be heard outside. The heavy door was kicked open, revealing a gore-coated, sopping wet, murder-faced Katarina, breathing heavily. She glared daggers at Celene. Her eye twitched.

"You..." She advanced a step. "You stole my body." She advanced another step. "You tormented me." She reached Celene. "You... KISSED ME?!" She leaned in and yelled at the top of her lungs. "YOU MUTILATED ME! Marked me as your territory like a fucking dog." The assassin wrapped her gloved hand around Celene's neck. "Why..?" She asked the question slowly. Everyone in the room was frozen. Celene let out a long sigh.

"It was a mistake," Celene answered. Katarina's eyes narrowed. "I took an interest in your body a long time ago; I thought it a solution to my mundane life. But... It turns out you're not what I'm looking for after all," Celene admitted, her gaze shifting away from the redhead. "I'm jealous of you... You accept who you are, I do not. You have goals and ambitions related to your personality, I do not." Celene averted her eyes. She finished, her face hot. Celene was sinking in the woman's grasp. Katarina wrinkled her nose and slapped Celene hard across the face with the back of her gloved hand. Throwing her from her hand, Celene lost her balance. Alistar caught her with a simple motion of his hand. The bull glared at the assassin, returning Celene to her feet.

"Katarina," Riven spoke up. "Stop. This violence will solve nothing. Wouldn't it be bett-"

"SHUT UP!" The assassin spun. "Violence solves everything! I have solved every single problem in my life by running a sword through it!" Katarina screamed. She glared around the room as everyone took a step closer to Celene. The assassin knew she couldn't win. "If she'd done to you what she did to me…" She gritted her teeth and whirled around, storming from the room, her hair billowing behind her like a cape.

Marten blinked. "Well everyone survived so I say she took it pretty well."

Celene glanced around the chamber. Everyone was staring at her silently. She drew up a picture of her new room in her mind. The Ionian woman vanished from the chamber without a word, startling everyone inside. Celene materialized a foot above her bedspread and apathetically landed face down on it. It had been a long day, a day Celene spent the remainder of pondering if she wanted to be here after all.


End file.
